An ice cream truck is parked along Stanwix Street in Rome. It’s the same block where I lived for part of my youth.

Farewell Summer (With Apologies to Ray Bradbury)

The death of summer—
sadness reigns
as the season wanes.

No more soft-serve
ice cream cones,
lakeside walks,
baseball games and
backyard cookouts.

Late August
blues ensue,
giving way to the
birth of autumn.

And you know
what comes next.

Soon Mother Nature
pulls Old Man Winter
down from the attic,
sharpens his dentures
and deprives him of food—

until she’s ready
to set him loose
on the world again.