David McMillen: at close of summer

David McMillen is a native of Freeport, Ill. and works in the social services field. He is an occasional participant at MWC's Out Loud and the Quint City Poets, and a frequent reader with the Bucktown Revue. Dave said in his context statement: "I was looking for something sentimental and evocative of the feeling of departure, of transitioning from one season to another, and the approach of autumn became the perfect inspiration for this. I look forward every year to the onset of crisp fall weather and the metamorphosis of vibrant color it produces among the oaks, elms, maples, and birches of the upper Midwest. Summer is perfect for picnics, gardens, and vacations, but autumn is my favorite time of the year."

I asked Dave about arctophilia, and he clarified that it means literally, "love of bears." This man who drinks scotch and stout, and eats meat cooked on a spit with his hands also collects teddy bears.

at close of summer

blue shadows stretch long
at the fading of the day;
haze fills the meadows,
covering waves of wild flowers,
their bright glory now passed on
to sepia tones
and brittle, bent submission
at close of summer

now the tyranny
of relentless sweltering
begins its surcease,
and we breathe many a deep sigh,
grateful just to draw in air
that does not roast us
inside and out, slow-basted
in our own juices

morning sun tarries
below the dim horizon,
late for appointment
with the breaking of the day;
dawn, his mistress, sleeping in,
rosy fingers still
folded ‘neath starry mantle
‘til her master calls

lazy days, numbered,
intruded upon by thoughts
of study, of work,
of responsibilities
that rise up, stern taskmasters
that they are, to call
us in from carefree play with
our fair-weather friend

the equinox waits,
cloaked in September shadows,
biding its good time,
ticking off one muggy day
and night after another
‘til the time is spent
and we say our last farewells
at close of summer