The last day of spring,
Setting posts beneath
A molten solstice sun,
And stripped to the waist,
By noon I’m scorched
Pink as the dawn,
Thinking of those recently
Concluded commencement
Speeches everywhere,
The ones preaching sunscreen
And worrying about
Not worrying about
What comes next—
And I can’t help but wonder,
Why we rarely hear about
What came before, what continues:
Plunged through radiance
Into a world of sunburnt professors,
Delivered on a sunbeam,
Each morning, noon, evening,
Commencement.
Forrest,
So glorious the way you weave together the season, a farm task, and pondering the questions about meaning in the world. Every poem makes me think and brightens my day. Thank you.
Oh, thank you! Past performance is no guarantee of future results, but I’ll try to stay steady 🙂
Nice, but don’t try to be a full employment project for the nearest dermatologist.
Haha, I knew I was walking a fine line.