This summer

Granddaughter,
For two years we have not seen your face.

The fireflies returned this June,
Flashing silent semaphores at eventide,
But this summer we have not seen your face.

In the bayou by the brook below the bridge
Frogs croak and splash in still green water
At the slightest approach,
But this summer we have not seen your face.

Swifts dance on drafts of early morning air
Over the blue and white-trimmed house,
While nighthawks dart above the river;
High in the trees the orioles sing their fluid arias—

But this summer
In the eaves of the ancient shed
Adjacent the churchyard
The swallows have not returned to nest.

7/1/2014

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3 comments on “This summer

  1. Carol Light says:

    Stumbled onto your writings which I love. This one was so sad it brought tears to my eyes. I graduated PHS in 1972 and am the daughter of math teacher Mr. Light. Continue your good works.

    • BTM says:

      Thanks for posting, Carol.

      I have fond memories of your father, who always kept a copy of e.e. cummings’ “95 Poems” on his desk.

      • Carol Light says:

        Yes, e.e. and kipling were his favs. Growing up we had family poetry reciting contests with aunts and uncles when they visited.

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