Summer, my love, what's this I hear about you leaving? It's awfully early, isn't it? You just got here. We don't have to kid each other, Summer. I knew when you came to town that you wouldn't stay. You never have. And even though you haven't said it yet to my face, I've heard the talk and seen the signs that tell me you've got your bags have packed. Just last week I saw the ferns turning brown and brittle. I saw the flower heads turned crisp and crackly. And I saw the fawns, their white spots nearly gone. I saw the wild berries, they are about ready for picking. I saw the squirrels and chipmunks too. They've got food on their minds, winter food. That tells me something that you haven't. Come on, love. Don't try to fool me. You kiss me with 90° heat during the day, and in the evening caressed me with the 70s. But just before dawn, I awake and feel the restlessness in you and the chill sets in.
You set this town on fire almost as soon as you arrived. You set the sidewalks to sizzling and the blacktop to bubbling. You had them gasping, Summer, and that's what it's all about. And you and me? We fried and we broiled, but sometimes we found the shade where the little creek runs, and we swatted flies and drank the last drop from every cooling breeze. I can't tell you what to do, Summer. You've always gone your own way. But please oh please don't go yet. Take me by the hand and walk with me some more. Tell me how it was in the olden days and how it will be tomorrow in those places where I can't see or know. When nighttime comes, let's hold each other close, just one more time. Let's count the stars in the clear summer sky, and let's listen to the music of eternity as it is played in the throats of frogs and the leaves of trees and the instrumental strings of those who dream the sweetest dreams. And if you must go, sweet Summer, and I know you must, then let me down easy. We will not be together as many times in the future as we have been in the past. There have been more yesterday's then there will be tomorrow's. So stay with me… As long as you can. Jay Reed Milwaukee Journal
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KTAs a working artist/retired art educator, I've always lived the artful life. Let's share! Categories
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