When In Winter. (Prosery)

Such good heat in summer. I have a co-worker, skin over bones she is, who goes out into the mid-day oven wearing a sweater, to warm up from the chill of the AC. She returns flushed and rosy and happy to be warm for a little while.

Let’s remember this, shall we? When we’re complaining of heating oil costs while adoring favorite sweaters, and hosting guests at holiday time, and, if we’re lucky, quietly cuddling with those we like best.

Let’s remember sleeping without a top sheet, screened windows and the sound of cicadas and crickets and distant concerts or carnivals. And the grilling and freshly grown gems, and the farm stand colors palettes, and cityscapes undulating in grossly hot afternoons. And any other summer experience you hold dear (or annoying). Let’s remember them all well.

Love the fresh fruit, and the gawdawful heat, and the surf, and the garden, and the skin you expose – as daring as that makes you feel regardless of your size or shape, and the sudden rolling thunderstorms.

Love it all. It’s why we’re here.

DJ Dawson

First published July 19, 2014.


Unapologetic Season. [Poem]

August, the Sunday of the summer months.

Suspending the start of autumn, an air of distracted denial in these late summer days.

Our activities hum
similarly round in their tune.

Bring in the fruits for winter’s cellar and holiday cheer.
Relearn tying shoes and making lunch.
End earlier to rise earlier
Summer’s growth spurt in hand-me-downs to the delight of youngers
Beat the rugs, weed the garden, inhale the sun
Latecomer hydrangea, frilled and elegant
unapologetic in size, boldly confident this summer has no end

I pull on the salmon shorts those
embroidered with navy lobsters (the only lobsters I’ve had this season)
button a favorite lightweight chambray shirt
the footbed leather always cool to my soles
as the dog writhes and wiggles her welcome and
release out the back door.

It is, thankfully, summer, still.

Written August 30, 2014.