The onslaught of summer brings winter fore.
Do I think self follows some calendar?
My roses bloom in May and my hair grays
In October with the changing of leaf?
A birthday falls as my beginning year
When the summer solstice is on its turn.
When I feel the heat of sun upon skin
I also feel age give my bones new grief.
My June does not mark a new season start,
But checks off another year from my heart.
And by my count my summer’s long been done
And the winter of my life just begun.
When we see temperatures rise to hot
And talk of lazy, laid-back days of summer;
I shiver in the chill of my winter
Counting off the Junes before I slumber.
Photo: Self-portrait – Alapocas Run State Park, 2011