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  • Writer's pictureMarilyn Gardner Woods

and the livin' is easy...

My friend Bess spoke wistfully the other day saying “I wish there were more days in July…”

As the month ends and August approaches, that old “end of summer” feeling hits hard. Even though there are no more school days on my horizon, I remain programmed for summertime and all that it brings. And always has.

Summertime is for wistfulness.

Emily Dickinson captured the magnificence of the season in her poem, “A Something in a Summer’s Day” which inspired me to reflect. Connect. Randomly. Wistfully. No iambic-pentameter, however…

Glistening morning drops of dew

Flowers’ flush of vibrant hues

On the canyon path a lone being in view

A something in a summer’s day

A picnic basket’s checkered cloth

A ladybug’s polka-dotted back

A plink of copper wind chimes in the breeze

A something in a summer’s day

Plums, peaches, popsicles

Potato salad, pickles, potato chips

Perfumed scents—rosemary, roses, petunias

A something in a summer’s day

Ulysses pages open on a lounge

Under a straw hat, a slumbering soul

An umbrella, a paper fan, a spritz of cool water

A something in a summer’s day

A sunrise, a sunset, a Full Moon, a firefly

A flicker, a twinkle, a chirp, a humm-m-m-m

Sounds, sights, and sweet scents of the season

Something in a summer’s day

Tomatoes growing on the vine

Ice cubes clinking in fruited wine

A nightcap in moon’s shine

A something to end a summer’s day

Many somethings in a summer day

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