summers pass

seasons pass

slow until summer
 
arrives, welcomed with
open arms and soon
 
after greeting, it’s gone
traded for rain, turned
 
cold, turned to snow
and lingering for months
 
wish the days were
always as long as
 
twenty-one days into
June, but they shrink
 
like cotton shirts not
washed with care
 
and maybe it’s the
same length as the
 
other three, but the only
hot one so it seems
 
to me that there are
two seasons, summer
 
and not summer…