calendar days

a goodbye

sprinklers go on and off, not turned on by human hands.
I watch from the window,
mourn a summer not yet gone
by calendar days.

tiny birds travel about, low to the ground, enjoying the machinery
that has allowed them rain.
they fly to and fro.

I never bought the pansies or the impatiens

for our balcony ledge, 

it is too early for pumpkins.

but geese left loudly  four nights ago.

last night, we heard the crickets,

thought it was water running somewhere,

did not recognize the sound:
an air conditioner had drowned out all summer long.

it's too soon,
it's still August,
I still have beach days left in me.
(I think silently to the chattering birds.)
 

they don't care.

They are happy in their man-made rain.

Reviews

[Lena M. P.]

Loved this. Not wanting to surrender the summer days for the winter bleakness. I can relate. I hate winter. It has it's own beauty but give me the sunshine. Very imaginative.