November 2021
Bio Note: Before moving to balmy and beautiful Madison, Wisconsin, I lived on the east side of Milwaukee, where—at least until recently—the year has only three seasons: late winter, July, and early winter. The culprit is Lake Michigan, whose chilly blasts give substance to the famous understatement, “cooler near the Lake.” The phenomenon does not exist twenty miles to the west, but we east-siders knew what we had to deal with, year after year. The poem below is just one of many that have been generated by that bleak reality.
Another Reason Not to Live North of 43 Degrees Latitude,
Especially Near Lake Michigan
Summer around here doesn't leave
politely. No wafting away, full of good
excuses, into clouds of dissipating
humidity. No trailing nine o'clock sunsets
festooned with streamers the color
of seashells, or Damson plums.
Instead, she wakes up one morning
near the end of August, shakes the petals
out of her hair, takes a chilly look around,
and before we've had time to unplug the fan
and slam the windows shut, she's gone.
Just like that. Sometimes so fast
she catches her skirt in the door;
last year we were still finding shreds
as late as November.
©2021 Marilyn Taylor
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell her or him. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL