Thursday, September 11, 2008
Letting Go of Summer
I love autumn.
But yet, as I see it coming, I know that summer will be over.
And there are things I will miss about summer...
I will miss the smell of freshly mowed grass.
suntan oil and chlorinated pool water.
Hot sand on bare feet, surprise lilies,
turtles crossing the road and
the cracking of ice in a cooler.
I will miss listening to the birds
as they have a morning party in the treetops,
watching the fields swell up with corn,
and feeling the sun burn little red patches beneath my eyes.
I will miss hummingbirds,
I will miss going barefoot-
wearing tee shirts and sandals
I will miss cold iced tea
and banana Popsicles eaten from the porch swing.
I will miss grilling steaks.
I will miss sipping wine while a perfumed breeze blows around me.
I'll miss taking walks down freshly oiled roads,
of dust on the windowpanes,
of wild flowers on the fringe of the horizon.
I will miss juicy red tomatoes
and crisp watermelon
and blackberries baked into a sugary cobbler.
I will miss strawberries
and home-made ice cream
and peaches so ripe they drip from your chin.
I will miss rummage sales
and outdoor parties
and planting a garden.
Of night crawlers
and open umbrellas
and the yellow lights of a carnival.
and bright bandannas.
I will miss slow talks around the picnic table,
wishing on a sky of bright stars,
clotheslines flapping with color,
and moths fluttering near the porch light.
I will miss screen doors,
and gingham tablecloths.
I will miss fireflies
and baby wrens
and newborn colts bolting across the field.
I'll miss sweet rain storms
and the comfort of my chair as it thunders outside,
the spark of lightning-
and puddles in the driveway.
I'll miss crisp cucumbers
and fresh green beans
and over-ripe pears.
I'll miss nights with the windows open,
soft sheets over sunburned skin
I'll miss margaritas around the tiki bar,
the idea of camping
and the sting of mosquitoes.
I'll miss bumblebees,
and snow cones.
I will miss summer.
I miss it even now.