Tuesday, May 7, 2013


it is full summer.
I open doors and windows 
to the morning chill
filling the rooms
with cool air,
as my mother and grandmother
did before me, 
against the impending
heat of the afternoon.

The birds are ecstatic,
the air alive with their mingled song,
their little chests puffed,
warbling so energetically 
they are almost falling off
their branches
with delight.

season of lake scent 
and willow
on the air,
canvas hammocks,
and wet bathing suits on the line.
Once I swam during an afternoon storm,
gray lowering clouds,
thunder rumbling,
a metallic odor
that was the
edge of storm,
the lake, the hills 
all mine.

I remember it, still,
the gunmetal gray
of that long-gone
summer afternoon,
in the years when summer was
my grandma's house:
her steady serene domestic presence,
her company, her chortling,
the comfort of the bulk of her
as she showed me,
day by day,
how to live.


  1. I feel every emotion charged word ... the magic you weave with words.

  2. I agree with Helen...the whole poem captivates the senses! So lovely.

  3. This reminds so much of summers at my grandmother's, swimming in the St.Lawrence River and her loving presence. Lovely, Sherry.

  4. How wonderful that Summer has finally arrived in your part of the world with so many wonderful memories in store.

  5. I love the birds nearly falling off their branches with delight--and see you there drinking in the times and lessons with grandmother.

  6. So wonderful that your grandmother's lessons live on and that you have such beautiful memories.

  7. this is magnificent, Sherry. and i chortled when i came upon "her chortling." :)

  8. love the gun metal gray - it is good to think back over those lost summers, and ready for the next one too

  9. the chortling is something we did with our mother as well...lovely write.

  10. This is so full of goodness.
    don't know how I came to miss this. I can hear, see, feel and smell the loveliness of the days.
    And your grandmother, witping her hands on her apron after baking yet another batch of cookies.
    You were privileged to have such a childhood, and it is still so strongly with you.


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Thank you so much. I will be over to see you soon!