Summer Impatience
SUMMER IMPATIENCE
Now it is glorious summer
And the winter of our discontent is turned
Into a sudden sea of dandelions without number.
This morning I walked out across the park
Which I cross every day.
Yesterday it was merely green and stark,
Patiently awaiting its bi-weekly trim by noisy machine:
The high-point in its half-monthly existence
As a small part of the city’s spaces green.
But today it was a riot of impatient weeds,
Yelling with tiny voices yellow and bright,
Rapidly bursting from their dormant seeds,
As if God woke up this morning from His oblivion
And, as an afterthought, commanded,
“ Let there be dandelions.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
NOTE
The first two lines of the poem are closely modeled on
Shakespeare’s famous lines in the play RICHARD III
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Debbie Guzzi's Contest Summer
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