Lynn Greyling |
Summer People
he was coatless as a boy should be
cutting slices through the summer air
thinking of games until finally his sneakers
touched their walk and he ran to the front
door at the end of the road-side stiching,
breath in happy panting already feeling the
touch of Emily – her family would be in the
kitchen as they were every summer- a pitcher
of cold lemonade with actual slices of lemon
floating - sugar crystals rimming the lip and
he would say “Hi” and the summer would …
But - it was all wrong – anyone could see it
the path weedy – the daylilies dead – the flag
not flapping on the rusty pole over the door –
the house sagged with that empty feel that
unbodied places get – He slumped for a long
while against that kitchen door picking at the
while against that kitchen door picking at the
flaking paint - the sun sank - his mother would
have dinner on the table and be looking out
the window for him - as vocabularly words tumbled
– “incredibly, apparently, evidently, inexplicably” -
they were not coming – there was no envelope
nattily fixed to the door with an explanation –
and never would there be – they were summer-
people after all – their lives as far flung-twinkling
as stars - seemingly set forever only to flicker, flash
have dinner on the table and be looking out
the window for him - as vocabularly words tumbled
– “incredibly, apparently, evidently, inexplicably” -
they were not coming – there was no envelope
nattily fixed to the door with an explanation –
and never would there be – they were summer-
people after all – their lives as far flung-twinkling
as stars - seemingly set forever only to flicker, flash
and without warning slice across the sky burning
bright, and out and irrevocably over.
bright, and out and irrevocably over.
Sasha A. Palmer has left a new comment on your post " Summer People":
ReplyDeleteA wonderful poem, Pearl. So many layers to it.
Thank you Sasha - I so appreciate your stopping by - there seems to have been a problem with posting on my end which I hope I have corrected ...
Deleteseemingly set forever only to flicker, flash
ReplyDeleteand without warning slice across the sky burning
bright, and out and irrevocably over.
Powerful words.. such a strong piece. Loved it!
Thank you Sanaa - so very much appreciated - delighted you enjoyed :)
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ReplyDeleteThis is such an elegant drawing. The story needs to be told of the disappointments of summer along with the accomplishments.
ReplyDeleteExcellent
This feels like a story ready to be continued. I was so drawn in.
ReplyDeleteFrom start to finish consistently lyrical and fresh - very accomplished and fluent. From the very beginning:"coatless as a boy should be..." you lead us from one evocative delight to another.... Thank you...
ReplyDeleteThis is painful to read. Some changes one is not expecting. The boy expected everything to be the same....every summer....but what a hard lesson to learn that sometimes they are not! I liked this poem, Pearl. It told a story that made me want to know more. Would make the good core of a novel.
ReplyDeleteSuch a wonderful piece Pearl--Your portrait has such quiet elegance
ReplyDeleteOh I was as saddened as the boy...the joy of looking forward to making new memories and then they are gone without explanation.
ReplyDeleteThe joy of childhood is defined during summer. It could be a hit or not to the youngsters. It is also the curious stage - expect lots of questions and innocent actions to solve a problem.
ReplyDeleteOh I can feel this............summer people, so bright, so THERE, then flickering out like stars.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful but sad tale of that piece of happiness torn from the boy. Even I almost came to tears!
ReplyDeletePeople disappear from our lives suddenly... difficult as an adult, even more traumatic as a youngster!
ReplyDeletePeople disappear from our lives suddenly- difficult as an adult, even more traumatic as a youngster.
ReplyDelete'The house sagged with that empty feel that unbodied places get' - what a beautiful and haunting line in this poem..summer people come and go whilst some of us are stuck in the ebb and flow of no seasonal definition...one of the hard lessons of growing older perhaps - creating your own kind of summer and finding people who stay come rain or shine..
ReplyDeleteI know that feeling so well. Summer friends renewed every year so sad when they went home.
ReplyDeleteYou made me feel it all, the joy and anticipation, then the sadness and resignation ... and see it all too.
ReplyDelete