Poem of the Week #87

50% Off Summer!

The sign said, the fun is over
and everything is now worth
half of what it was at the beginning.

Sandals, towels, and unguents
become meaningless in the face
of the coming north wind

that will soon chill away
all the thrills of summer:
warm nights by the fire pit

and sunny mornings sleeping late.
There are beans to be picked
and pestos to be made.

There are more tomatoes
than you can shake a stick at,
and peaches, ah, peaches.

It’s coming to an end here,
all the ripe possibilities of summer.
Despite all the warnings,

and even when nothing particular
got accomplished,
summer’s value holds.


Lisa Vihos