Skip to main content

Wait, Summer! Don't Go Yet!

I have always said this—
I love the change of seasons.
And I mean it.
But just now I am clinging to Summer
by its ankles as it pivots toward the door
and leaves the room.
Wait! Don't go yet!
I call as I tighten my grip around its shin bone,
and it pulls me across the floor,
bunching up the summer rug beneath me,
the green grass, snapdragons and sprawled out oregano now in folds.
It's about to drag me through
crunchy leaves and spiked acorns and withering herbs.
So I plant my feet flatly against the door frame,
knees locked and jaw set,
as Summer shrugs and shakes me off
with a fling of its foot.
And empty handed, I reach out with splayed fingers,
and I shout one last time,
Wait! Not yet!
Just one more day.

Last week, Ohio experienced one of the hottest days of the summer, and then the next day we woke up to autumn with fall temperatures and rain and cloudy skies, and the forecast for the forseable future seems destined to plow straight ahead with no looking back.

My orchestra's outdoor Labor Day concert has been canceled, my swimming pool ripples without a soul to plunge into it and I've begun to wear scarves and socks again. And shoes. It was just a couple of weeks ago that I lamented I would soon have to start wearing shoes again. Well, the time has come to lace them up or slip them on, and there's not a thing I can do to stop it.

Last night, Husband and I and a couple of friends did one last summer thing—we went to an Indians game in Cleveland—and we wore jackets and scarves and long pants as we sat in the chilly lake-effected night breeze. It looked like this—a farewell to Summer.




Labels:

Comments

dive said…
Woohoo for poetry! Marvellous, Robyn!
I'm sure Summer will pop back to visit you and make sure you have a delicious September.
GO INDIANS!
Bummer that they lost, but at least you got a glorious sunset.
1:43 PM
Speedway said…
It's a lovely poem, Robyn. As much as I've sweltered this summer, I don't want it to go, but to hang around, more quiet and mild.

I say this from the middle of Indiana, where it was in the mid-90s last week, reaching 100 on Saturday, and is now a very breezy 63. Ach!
1:56 PM
Robyn Martins said…
Dive, it really was a beautiful sunset that was not diminished by the Indians' sucky playing.

Speedway, we have your same weather. It was sweltering on Saturday, and now it's practically chilly.
2:00 PM
Anonymous said…
Love the poem, wish I could echo its sentiment! Me? I can't wait for summer to be over. Today's high in my neck of the woods: 98 degrees. Trade ya!
4:27 PM
Shan said…
Wow, what a perfect poem. I have been acting this out in my head before I even read it. I never complain about the heat in the summer because I am good in the heat. I loathe being cold. Loathe. :)
10:11 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Classic Green Bean Bake

In anticipation of Thanksgiving, I feel I must post a recipe with plenty of good old American tradition. The classic Green Bean Bake was invented in 1955 by Dorcas Reilly, a home economist who worked for the Campbell's Soup Company. A study was done determining that 50% of all Americans have eaten the classic Green Bean Bake, and 38% of those believe it is best served during the holidays, mainly Thanksgiving. So, for the other 50% and for those in other countries where this dish may be unfamiliar--my treat: The Classic Green Bean Bake serves 6 to 8 1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup 1/2 cup milk 1 teaspoon soy sauce Dash of fresh pepper 1 20-oz. bag frozen cut green beans, thawed* 1 2.8 oz can French-fried onions -Preheat the oven to 350 F -In a casserole dish, combine the soup, milk, soy sauce and pepper. Stir in the green beans and half of the onions. -Bake until bubbling, about 25 minutes. Top with the remaining onions and bake for 5 more minutes. Serve hot. *Or cook 1 ...
7 comments
Read more

Bring On the Bombs

In today's edition : I generally try to keep on top of cultural trends even if I don’t adopt them, but there is a growing movement that I have only just discovered. Not long ago, I was walking along in Berkeley, California while visiting my daughter, and I saw a signpost that had been covered with yarn, like someone had sewn a knitted scarf to it. It was colorful and randomly striped, and I pointed it out as if it were the most unusual thing in the world. That’s when my daughter explained the nature of what is known as yarn bombing. It’s when knitters attach something they’ve created to a public object, most often doing their deed stealthily and anonymously. They leave a “bomb,” so to speak, for no other purpose than to brighten up the place and to bring a little cheer to those passing by. Their work has been equated with graffiti, except that the woven yarn is not permanently installed and does no damage to the object it covers. And instead of signifying the territory of a street ...
2 comments
Read more

Cindy Loo Who In October

What is it with people and Cindy Loo Who? Of my last one hundred blog hits, forty have been direct visits from regular readers, and fifteen have been as a result of people searching for "Cindy Loo Who," the little pixie from Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas . A couple of years ago, I posted an image of the original Seuss illustration as compared to the TV cartoon image, and for some reason, that post is bringing in the crowds, relatively. Maybe it's the weather. It isn't even November yet, and already we've had frost and have had to dust off our winter coats. When it gets cold like this, I start to think about Christmasy things like listening to Nat King Cole and decorating the tree. It's ironic because I am offended when retailers start pushing holiday stuff early, but I don't mind my own private celebrations. When my sister and I were much younger and still living with our parents, we would pick a day in July, close the curtains to darken the ...
8 comments
Read more