SUMMER'S END

We will end the summer

with a terracotta sunset

just before

the sky seeks diversion

in darkening clouds

At last, spilling out

a long-sought summer rain

showering down

tap, tap, tap

drops of water

upon windows and walks

And down the street

Dina's old air conditioner hums

a final baritone salute

to the season of the sun

The man who now lives

in Tom's old house

packs his electrical supplies

ready for the 7 AM grind

speeding his Chevy down

Avenue H

reeling from

bottomless well drinks

and finite sleep

The Scribe of Grant Street

turns to his pen

and begs it not to scribble

the truths of sad nations

or the heartbreak of dead seasons

but rather to forge ahead

and record the sounds of

the living, breathing neighborhood

the exclamations of Connie on the corner

dissing the sorority tarts

as the postman sloshes

split, splat through

the impending rainfall

just before

the sky seeks diversion

in darkening clouds

At last, spilling out

a long-sought summer rain

showering down

tap, tap, tap

drops of water

upon windows and walks

And down the street

Dina's old air conditioner hums

a final baritone salute

to the season of the sun

The man who now lives

in Tom's old house

packs his electrical supplies

ready for the 7 AM grind

speeding his Chevy down

Avenue H

reeling from

bottomless well drinks

and finite sleep

The Scribe of Grant Street

turns to his pen

and begs it not to scribble

the truths of sad nations

or the heartbreak of dead seasons

but rather to forge ahead

and record the sounds of

the living, breathing neighborhood

the exclamations of Connie on the corner

dissing the sorority tarts

as the postman sloshes

split, splat through

the impending rainfall