Preoccupation

Saturdays

I must confess I've been a bit preoccupied
this happens in the summer when the days are long
and the nights are cool and the bugs are singing to me
As the Cicada get louder and the days get shorter
the world will crowd around make my head full of the ordinary
There won't be time for summer afternoons reading poetry
making my face red in big hollywood sunglasses
We'll be planning for the Christmas parties
picking out turkeys and killing a tree to cover in white lights
and I will be missing the days of summer
days like today when I am planning my escape
When the snow is piled high and I am reaching
for the wool hat on the coat rack I will be dreaming of today
I will be counting down the days in my head
until the first tulips pushes itself through the cold ground
like you push yourself up through me
I will be missing the sun warm on my skin
when you are on top of me and the sweat fuses us
When the plows have pushed the snow to look like sand dunes
I will be with you alone in my room
on a Saturday afternoon
and while the world is washing the salt off their cars
running errands, picking up the dry cleaning their feet frozen in slush
I will smile thinking of a whole Saturday
wasted waiting for the next time you laugh quietly
holding back the way I let it go maniacally
When you were looking for the signals
and me reminding you there are no signals
it's all chance
That's God's big reminder that he's in charge
You can plant a tree
you can rescue a dog
you can help an old lady find her way home
when the bus stop is too cold
but you can't just conjure up a Saturday
If you could just have a whole day lost
you'd go find him at the market
he'd be standing there next to donuts
with a quick smile
with a devious laugh
one of those guys other guys like
because he will do something humiliating
for the sake of adventure and just to make you laugh
You'd find one, take him home and lose a day
Life doesn't work like that though
you have to hit the mark
You have to keep your head up
and your heart open to the possibility of it
When I walk outside at night
and the earth will be frozen
there won't be one bird noise
no soft breeze on my face just
a tight feeling from cold air
as your lungs miss summer too
I will look up to my room the window above the door
and the snow will fly up around me
and I'll watch the planes go by
miss you and summer.

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You can always find me at Summerpoet@msn.com and my work at poetsummer.etsy.com.

Carrie.