Serenata d’estate (Summer Serenade)

Ripples

The park trees are ringed with concentric
circles inscribed by a riding mower. Half

the grass is green, half is burned-
out brown. The beach is closed, clogged

with weeds and toxic blue-green algae.
A little light rain draws overlapping 

circles on the surface of the lake.
The drops play a serenade of summer

both sweet and sour. Sweet for the season
of shorts and T-shirts I longed 

for all winter. Sour for carrying me
within spitting distance of seventy.

The rain passes. The lake shines
like a smooth, oval stone.

Copyright 2020 by Brian Dean Powers
Photo by Jan Fillem at unsplash.com

The Run to Picnic Point

Point Postcard
August ends, humid and hot
but that's not stopping you from hauling

yourself up hill after hill. Off-road,
across the grassy flat of a football field,

you stride with light, silent steps —
though your pace in this heat

is more jog than dash.
The run grows in its slow

and winding way, flourishing at last
on the path to Picnic Point. The trodden

ground is dappled, sunlight blazing radiant trails
through the leaves overhead. The breeze

sprays you with the fragrance of apples,
strokes your sweat-slicked skin.

You dodge and dart over tree roots
and rocks, breathing easy, immersed

in the spread of an incandescent day.
Sunlight runs among the treetops on photon feet.

Copyright 2004 by Brian Dean Powers
Published in Echolocations: Poets Map Madison by Cowfeather Press,
and in 2006 by the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets. During 2014, the poem was
displayed in the Reflections: Madison photography and poetry exhibit
at the Monona Terrace Convention Center.
Public Domain photo at commons.wikimedia.org