Not Yet, But Close
The eleventh already,
closer to the heat now,
pretty soon we’ll button down
by two, no later than three,
but not yet. This is prime time,
not quite my seventy-ninth summer.
Not quite.
Not yet that day of memorial.
Is it later this year?
As late as the thirty-first?
Still room to pretty myself up
for the beach days ahead.
But summer lurks,
with her ninety-sevens,
maybe even a one-oh-one.
Oh my.
Like a beast, growling
just around the corner.
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