summer comes

twenty degrees

twenty-five

thirty

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

hi
hi
hi

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

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A (very small, slightly inadequate) nod to Gershwin

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© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #18: hammer love

010518