Separation

Summer, I love you once and doubtless will again;

for sure I’ll miss your warm and humid breath some months from now,

during the short, cold days and frigid nights of February.

But at the moment, on this your last day with me for a while,

I have to say I think some time apart will do us good,

let us cool down from our heated altercations

so we can start afresh next time.

 

Copyright 2018

T. Allen Culpepper

Pivotal Sunday

The joy of warm sun

on bare shoulders, legs stretched out

on a front-porch chair,

coffee and a magazine,

cats resplendent in gold rays,

on this pivotal Sunday

between my summer

and full immersion

in the academic sludge

of another start-of-term.

Temperatures have dropped

from oppressive to just hot,

and in the breeze I’m feeling

the first vague hint of autumn,

the potted flowers browning,

but the crepe myrtle

holding on to glory days

on a professor’s

new year’s eye, the new

beginning before

the old seems ended.

But fittingly, this last day

has dawned a thing of beauty,

bright sun in the kind of sky

that must have inspired

the blue field of our state’s flag.

I could stay here contented

until lunch at least,

but it’s not to be;

I’m down as intercessor,

so I can’t skip church today,

though I wonder what worship

could exceed this holy state,

what obligation

could truly merit

getting dressed, going indoors,

but still I must intercede.

Copyright 2015

T. Allen Culpepper