
Summer’s end is around the bend just flying
The swimming suits are on the line just drying
~ John Prine, Summer’s End ~

Summer’s end is around the bend just flying
The swimming suits are on the line just drying
~ John Prine, Summer’s End ~
Why are clouds so much more when they hover above the open sea? Something about the color of the ocean and the blue sky and summer cotton clouds, ahead, above, and all around. The sky and the ocean, similarly infinities.
Someone’s gazing at clouds from a spot on the shore, and I wish it was me. I can almost feel it now. And I wish it was me.
winding road
hair flying every which way
grassy hills and open fields
farms and cows and weeds
everything a kid could see
Spotted
robins.
Three of them.
Young ones, for sure.
Fledglings, nestlings,
constant feedings.
Papa Robin worn thin, too worn for singing.
Evening songs competing
with cicadas
and crickets.
Ribbits.
When did that happen?
You know, Summer running up ahead,
glancing back. And that snotty grin?
Summer’s promise, the long days of june.
Done
And
Done.
Ahh ….
Spotted
lady,
painted bright and new as spring.
Me? I’m whining and lamenting
where this weird old summer’s going.
photographs from july 25, 2020
somewhere over the rainbow
way up high
there’s a land that I heard of
once in a lullaby
~ ~ ~ ~
Over the Rainbow, Judy Garland
composed by Harold Arlen, lyrics by Yip Harburg
written for Wizard of Oz
photographed sometime in summer 2019
your bothered sigh
another day
a squeak
a bang
sliding doors
nearby voices fading far
muffled jumble
meaningless words
engines and brakes
thumps and car doors
invisible airplane overhead purr
a singular
dispirited
gnarling bark
hums
buzz
someone’s busy outdoor chores
then
quiet
nothing
but wind and birds and bugs silence
til
a swishing swirl
swiftly spinning
bicycle wheels
one more sip, your final gulp
sun up sounds
summer’s day waking up