ode to summer

dear summer,
in the morning you feel faraway, gone even
as the cool breeze bites the tops of my ears
and the back hairs of my neck stand up
but by midday
when you're streaming in the windows
drying the clothes on the line
sweating around the brow and underarms
I'm certain you're still here -

you are my least favourite season,
which is not to say
I don't love your brightness,
your blueness, and harvests -
It's just I find you exhausting
in the long long days
intensity, heat unrelenting,

this summer, I have:
helped vegetables and fruit grow
harvested for our eating
preserved for later months
learnt to wake and sleep earlier
learnt to drive a car
lifted heavier buckets
made realistic plans
gotten lost in child's play
submitted a manuscript
burnt my shoulders
fended off three colds
watched the pasture turn brown
swam in the dam
walked in moonlight
cut sunflowers
sowed cabbage
held dying chicks in my hands
smelt the smoke from bush fires
been sad,
been distant, been present -

see you are always a lesson for me
to not look forward (too much)
and make the most of what you offer us -
surrender even, or just let be
summer -
thank you.