A Summer Dream

This year for sure we'll make use of summer.

Winter—those ten (well, at least nine) months

            of early darkness and endless cold—

conditions us to be indoors.

In the summer we sit outside on our rustic deck

to eat an evening meal

but, having eaten,

we allow ourselves to be driven—

by uncomfortable chairs, mosquitoes, humidity—

back into the familiarity of the house.

 

Those illumined hours of a summer evening

are wasted, night after night—

and finally I say enough!

This is the year to brave the fears and discomforts.

This is the year to stay on the deck yet another hour

after the disappearance of our local robin

who forages for worms at the same time every evening

in the green patch of lawn beyond our fence.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Ann Tudor
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