The only summers I remember
Were so long ago the moss grew
And contracted, gray and brittle of
Such age and unworthiness

Grassy refuge fell and tumbled house
Disappeared from reality
Mists grew before eyes unable
Or unworthy to let go

The only summers worth summoning
Seem to pull yet further as fall
Without shame intervenes
And treeless leaves gather

And blow begone with no regard
For foot-dragging eye-squinting
Mumble-dim revision
Or re-visioning

The only summers’ slowly fading
Leaving traces only
Flickering transitory ghosts
But the worst of it is the sheer

Lack of spectacle the way lovers long gone
Become mere characters in your story