Not The Same

Now waiting expectantly for summer
To play in the ear as a tinkling tune
The fairground whirl of the once-empty lot
Dancing music for air-conditioned nights

But sudden cool withdrawal absence now
At the height of summer's looming fancy
In a march of fleeting time
Softly proclaims an imminent change for us

What was is now not unquestionably
Like love misplaced in a public garden
Or hope rejected with the close of door
The grayness of Sunday the threat of rain

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Comments (1)

Well said! I like this poem especially the lines that say, What was is now not unquestionably Like love misplaced in a public garden...