Desolate Summer,
How it ends every
Time it begins.
The last summer on Earth will
Breeze so wind
Shine so sun
Hot so clear and bright
The first breath of hell will
Sigh delivered.
Unlike
The first summer on Earth which
Croaked so egg
Ran so yolk
Trickled so wet and young
The first breath of fall cooled
Some great white relief.
Once learned, an end to grief
Anticipates itself doubly:
Once empty and once full
Once in memory, and once
In Hope.
The summer fizzles like this, a love
Cooling, cooling, burning
The same way all fire dies, by
Eating itself to its own
End, and yet –
Stoke,
Stoke,
Stoke the night that returns
Humid. Stoke
The day whose splendor
Shocks. And stoke finally
The song of your voice
Clear and high above the fray
So you can hear it over the guitar.
Desolate Summer:
How it ends every
Fresh song sung.
Why sing at all?
Indeed, why sing at all?
Just the same miraculous reason
Summer always comes.