POEM: Sombertime


by Holly Hogan

Summers are not always sunshine and blueberry ice cream.

Nor are they lemonade by the lake. 

Sometimes summers are sweltering and arid.

And the rain falls, but its from your   

eyes and the beads on your forehead. 

The summer isn’t always picnics with your boyfriend. 

Nor is it garden parties with gingham sundresses. 

Sometimes summers kill the green grass, and brittle the flowers from May. 

Summers are not always sunsets and county fair cotton candy. 

And it’s not always walks along the sand picking up seashells as you go. 

No, that isn’t always summer…


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