summer comes

twenty degrees



the thermometer is saying
that Spring’s nearly gone

I’m wearing a cotton shirt
short sleeves
no buttons

where I used to drink rain
now I’m sipping
the blue

leaves I watched
when they were just budding
are wide and they’re green
and waving me


old kookaburra
I heard him start laughing

from the top of a fence
watching grass  brown
in sun

that’s touching
thirty-five now

going on forty

and I think
that the Summer
has come

A (very small, slightly inadequate) nod to Gershwin

© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #18: hammer love


6 thoughts on “summer comes

  1. Pingback: Daily Post Discover Challenge: Scrapbook Poetry – Sumyanna Writes

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