Impossibly blue
this iridescent morning, these impeccable days
one after another, tumbled upon each other like brothers
at play. DiMaggio’s streak in jeopardy finally
while we’re eyeing home plate, stealing toward summer.
Doors to this kitchen swing in
the chef loudly announcing
all eggs, till further notice,
will be served sunny side up.
Each day longer than the one before
bulging with blossoms we can’t wait to devour
expectations growing, bellies swelling
with pregnant thoughts of July, August’s arrival
waddling down to the beach for our delivery
lying in the warm sand, wiggling toes
watching sun ascend to its apex
But will we have missed it?
Solstice slipped past us
kitchen door swinging out now,
clever thief that he is
not taking all of it, sliding past us
stealing but a few minutes each day
day after day sun’s stature shrinking
shorter before our unseeing, unbelieving
eyes while we lie fat and happy.
Days tighten their belt, slowly
one small notch at a time
the season grows thin
lean in the later morning, hungry at sunset’s early arrival.
Fooled again
our expectations this would never end
Grady James 4.12.20
Love this poem! Oh how I hate to see those summer days passing. For now I’m leaning into the long days of summer and will turn a blind eye for the next few weeks at least until the inevitable comes and the belt gets tightened on the season.
Thanks so much, Kathy! And, yes, let’s not rush this summer thru.