A Time Less Bold

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My mother, who hates thunder storms,
Holds up each summer day and shakes
It out suspiciously, lest swarms
Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there;
But when the August weather breaks
And rains begin, and brittle frost
Sharpens the bird-abandoned air,
Her worried summer look is lost,

And I her son, though summer-born
And summer-loving, none the less
Am easier when the leaves are gone
Too often summer days appear
Emblems of perfect happiness
I can’t confront: I must await
A time less bold, less rich, less clear;
An autumn more appropriate.
~Philip Larkin from “Mother, Summer, I”

Summer is simply too much excess,
from endless hours of daylight,
to rising temperatures,
clouds of dust,
to fruitfulness and abundant blooms.

It overwhelms and exhausts
while filling a void left empty
after endless cold bare dark days
that will all too soon
come again,
welcomed.

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3 thoughts on “A Time Less Bold

  1. Yes, summer is overwhelmingly bold, both in beauty and weather (humidity)! I’m glad for changing seasons too. Amazing photography!

    Like

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