By J.J. Tindall
The Longest Spring
My soul has committed local treason
by praying aloud for an endless spring.
A restless lake, white-blue sky, bouyant breeze;
songs chubby robins and jaybirds do sing;
the soft, green sea of undulating sod
which glistens through Humboldt Park in the rain
had me sighing to that three person’d God
we project my wish such bliss They sustain.
Summer popped by for Lollapalooza
and may yet return as foliage fades.
Thus bray not like a Canadian goose
that spring extended its brief staycation.
Send not to know where the lost season went.
We’ve been spared our summer of discontent.
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Posted on September 2, 2009