Where Did All My Summers Go?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

I hear the rhythm of the summer day beginning as I watch the morning sun rise higher in the sky. The chirping of the birds awakening atop the dew-soaked branches of the old Vara Dulce tree add to the morning sonata that permeates the morning air. The gray morning shadows fading like the echoes of my dreams. Summer days are ending as Autumn breezes near.

WHERE DID ALL MY SUMMERS GO?

By Al Garcia

I hear the rhythm of the summer day beginning as I watch the morning sun rise higher in the sky.  The chirping of the birds awakening atop the dew-soaked branches of the old Vara Dulce tree add to the morning sonata that permeates the morning air.  The gray morning shadows fading like the echoes of my dreams.  Summer days are ending as Autumn breezes near.

The rhythm of the seasons can be seen in the colors and the sounds that abound on a summer’s day.  The summer heat and gentle summer breeze make for lazy, care-free days and thoughts of what’s ahead and beyond the summer’s end.

Beneath the summer’s sun I sit, drinking in the smell, feeling texture of all that is.  To feel the sun, the wind, the annoyance of a fly that seems intent on landing on my arm, all add to the reality of the of moment, and ignite the mind to seek out memories of long past summer days when life was simpler and unrushed.  And I think.  And I remember summers long gone by when I sat outside and wondered about everything and nothing -- about growing up and living – about growing older and wiser, about seeing what was to be -- but never about the loss of time or lives that would never be again.

How my summer days have changed.  I now sit outside and wonder about everything, including what may lay ahead in the time that is yet to be.  But most of all, I think of summers past, and those that left too soon without seeing and enjoying the rhythm of another summer’s day, or the changing of the seasons, or the ringing in of another year that pass by so fast.

The shadows and echoes of my life seem to flourish in the summer’s light while I sit and reminisce of the things I’ve done and thing’s I’ve seen.  My memories blossom in the summer sun, refreshing childhood faces and places and times when laughter and joy, running and hiding, swimming and bike rides, and sitting under the shade of an old mesquite tree was all that mattered way back then.  And now, looking back I realize how each summer took my childhood away – betraying my dreams and hastening the demise of my innocence, and bringing me to where I am today.

Summer days, when leaves begin to fall, winds begin to blow, and memories made to last a lifetime are again recalled when the days have passed us by and we sit alone and wonder where all the summer days have gone.

And the rhythm of a summer day begins again, as I watch the changing season come, and I reminisce about those summers of my childhood when I didn’t have a thing to reminisce about -- when I only dreamt of things to be.  Those were the days . . . of summer.

Where did all my summer's go?


Submitted: May 31, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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