Pardon My Poetry: Dies the Summer

It shouldn’t have been what it was in the end

In summers now passed, such adventures, such friends

One tries to find magic where shadows reside

But life will determine, life will decide

Whether this year you’ll feel eighteen once more

Or wonder if you will know joy like before

The gut punches came each after the other

Said farewell to a sister, I and my brothers

Farewell to a boss, farewell to my money

Farewell to my time with my kids and my honey

Farewell to Luck, the Stanford Sensation

Will football still be fun to watch in this nation?

Shackled to work, to sleep and pay bills

Redundancy dwells where once lived many thrills

When half it was over I found myself thinking

The Good Ship Summer’s not sailing, it’s sinking

So we waited it out and endured each invasion

That Misery Monster would hear no persuasion

Come August I found myself longing for fall

This son of July has cold blood after all

Now I sit in my office, feeling my feelings

Adding the totals, half-drowning, half-reeling

Counting my blessings, striving for calm

Praying and borrowing Gilead’s balm

For the seasons yet turn and turn as they will

August gives way to September, yes, still

In spring I awaited the summer’s prompt coming

And now I await fall’s arrival, heart thrumming

There’s a chance that it’s better than summer this year

I choose to lock step with my hope, not my fear

If nothing else I can take this away:

No wicked season forever will stay.

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