Wyatt Underwood

summer

as in Donna
remember her?
she sang our troubles away
like Demeter's child
like new beer and old wine
like childhood reenacted by adults
a singer named Summer
who carried our hearts to new heights
and left us tingling without support
to find our own wings to the ground
or wherever we went next



hot times

oh my gosh, it's ninety-three degrees out there!
oh mu goodness, it's July!  it's summer!
every year surprises us like that
as if we had not used up the previous
hundred and eighty some days one at a time
with winter and spring fripperies
teased out to entertain us as long as the coffee lasts
how do we do that?  entertain ourselves then be surprised
that months, weeks, days have passed
and it's time again for short, short skirts and swimsuits
for horseback riding in bandannas and sombreros
for thanking the winds of summer for the skirts they lift
for a solstice without a sacrifice to pay



kalokaíri

     (Greek for summer)

Proserpina's back!
flowers riot, grain and corn grow
along the beaches, lovelies peel themselves
eyes widen then close back into squints
the surf reminds us of Poseidon's carriage
and we forget how soon his brother, Hades
will re-enact his original theft
and Demeter falls into despair
then winters in grief
until the other gods demand Persephone's return
but now!  oh glorious now!
we celebrate by shedding clothes
and turning skins a deeper brown

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