"Right from Winter into Summer.  We don't have much of a Spring anymore."  Know who says that?  Just about everyone living in central and northeastern Pennsylvania.  More often than not, it's hard to disagree.  Especially when June 1st feels like any day in July, as it does today.
     This verse is part of a collection of Summer poems from 2006.  Their simple titles came from the day each was written.

Tuesday, 7/11/06

 

Hanging low in the branches of a pine,

a sun the color of tiger lilies -

more a ball of fire than ornament -

foretelling heat, humidity and haze.

The man who walks his beagle each morning

feels he must let me know: "Hot one today,"

while the dog's only concern is something

found in the grass just off the roadway's edge.