It happens this time every year
And now it’s happening once more
The day I say a sad “Goodbye”
To summer slipping out the door
I ache inside to see it go
While writing this I almost cried
You ask me why it means so much
The answer: simply look outside
Magnificence from wall to wall
The warming sun the sky bright blue
The air is sweet the breeze is light
The strollers smile the birds sing too
The kids can play outside till late
The days are long as long can be
Illusions of extended life
Imagined immortality
Inevitably fall arrives
The leaves turn gold that once were green
It’s hard to fault a time of year
That dresses up like Halloween
The energizing primal pace
The bracing nip autumnal smells
It’s not the season I dislike
It’s everything that fall foretells.
The Arctic gusts the chill that burns
The ink-black skies the locks that froze
The icy stairs endangering hips
The loss of feeling in my toes
Beyond the seasonal distress
For me the wintertime’s the worst
On December the Thirtieth my father died
My Mom, on January First.
It’s crazy stupid wrong it’s dumb
It makes no sense bypasses reason
But putting elements aside
I hate that unforgiving season
It’s true a season’s in between
It’s premature to feel dismay
But signs will surely soon arrive
Their message: Winter’s on its way
Though gratitude’s the proper stance
For summer’s recent splendid show
Where “Thank you” is the thing to say
A wrenching voice intones.
“Don’t go.”
2 comments:
Very nice. Although you do live in Santa Monica? How bad does winter get out there? Lovely poem, though.
Dear Mr. Pomerantz; at least summer comes again - always faithful is summer.
-z
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