Looking for Summer

It's June and summer is almost here,
or so they keep telling me.
It's doesn't feel like summer
is skipping just a little ahead. 
It feels like winter is pulling me back
with a firm grip and shouting,
“Where do you think you're going?”

There's no need for air conditioning,
or even a fan;
just cracking the window open
gives me the chills.
We had a tease of summer,
a day or two of bright sunshine,
warm and inviting,
and just when I thought, “It's finally here!”
I woke in the morning to the sound
of heat coming up from the baseboards. 

Some would say I'm in the winter of my life,
my skin has gone thin 
or my circulation is failing. 
My fingers and toes would certainly agree.
I don't like to think the end is near,
though I cannot argue that 
I have more experience behind me,
than time ahead of me.
Truth is truth,
whether we like it or not.

Still, I long for summer,
its warmth, its light, its youthful joy.
I'll happily take 
its heat, humidity, and warring with mosquitoes
to feel the delight of sunshine through blue skies,
picnics with friends,
a stroll along the beach,
or any of the tableau
conjured by thoughts of summer.

Summer is life, 
winter is about dying.
I'm old enough not to care
if I look silly wearing 
colorful sundresses and flowers in my hair.
They suit me better
than winter's heavy blanket.

~Elise Skidmore ©2025