Here’s a quick poem I wrote…keeping in mind that this summer has hardly been a summer at all, it’s felt more like a day at the pool ruined by a thunderstorm…so here’s my ode to that.

The Plastic Gull

Beyond the aluminum fence,
clouds in late July
pass navy and stark above
green grasses and granny
apple orchards.

Liquid sapphire pools
of rain and melting rocket pops
puddle the concrete. Blue and
white striped loungers stand
vacant, some bearing
forgotten towels,
the multi-colored beacons
to a dry summer sun.

But a plastic gull has called
out an end to pool day.

One girl runs, wet, bare
feet slapping over blacktop,
to the minivan,
fearing the gentle wind
that carries inside out
candy wrappers scuttling
across the ground, and the
soft rumble of July clouds
that speak of deadly
cracks of light soon to scar
the sky.