Summer Blues

The bees don’t want to fight. Pollen is our only plight. Kites with tangled strings. And other harmless things. Whatever spring decides. We cannot deny- That we are more at peace. With the leaves that trees lease. I’m never ready for summer. Where wasps are angrier. I’m not ready for the cool breeze. To be replaced with burning unease. Whatever summer decides to bring. It always seems to be sighs we sing. In the hot sun, The ice cream truck never comes. The wasp stings. At the algae filled beach that summer brings. I’m ready for fall. Maybe I’ll give September a call!