Weeks of rain.
\nWeeks of cloud and overcast.
\nIt is a summer like no summer.
\nEarly June, and if the trees
\nwere not stuffed with green,
\nif the grass did not cover lawns
\nso luxuriantly,
\nif the evening did not come so late,
\nso near the solstice,
\nI would think summer went away.
\nRefused to meet me one last time,
\nlike a fickle lover,
\nfollowing her own moon.
\nThe door is still.
\nMy notes tell me nothing.<\/p>\n
Did she refuse to turn around?
\nDid her wonderful eyes look longingly
\ntoward some unknown distance?
\nShe is not here.
\nSummer is not here.
\nThe morning came but the sun never rose.
\nThe sky was a wall of lost expectation,
\ngray shadow and mist.
\nIn two weeks the longest day
\nwill arrive.
\nWill it be without her?
\nWill the roses stay uncut?
\nWill I leave the paper empty of words?
\nWill everything dear to me remain asleep?<\/p>\n
I am lost because no bell rings,
\nno step sounds on the walk,
\nno letter arrives.
\nI have been stood up.
\nI wander from room to room,
\ngo out in the garden,
\ndial non-existent numbers,
\nstand by the road looking.
\nDid I wake up too late?
\nAm I lost in limbo?
\nDid I lose summer?
\nDid I lose her,
\nreasons unknown?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Weeks of rain. Weeks of cloud and overcast. It is a summer like no summer. Early June, and if the trees were not stuffed with…<\/p>\n