by Tamara Madison

June is Friday:  weary of winter
exhausted by spring, brightened
by hope of rest and warmth
and green things stretching
toward the dear sun of summer.
July, then, is Saturday:
brown-limbed, easy, moving slow
through the long hours
of sand, of fish lifted
by clear waves with the light
shining through, of warm
nights with Mars glowing
gold near the rocking moon.
August, alas, must be Sunday: 
there’s still time, the days
still balmy and long
the sun still hot, Mars still
bright in the warm night sky,
the sea still glittering
with the coins of the sun.
But the shadow at the end
looms longer every day.
And then it’s September:
a cheap and painful parody
of summer:  hotter than August
but the days grow shorter
and we are stuck wherever
we have to be as wild fires
devour the hills of spring
leaving us pining for July
when time stretched out
on a blanket before us,
naked and smiling.

“Summer” and other poems by Tamara Madison — along with poetry and prose from over 70 authors around the world — are featured in the 220-page Silver Birch Press SUMMER ANTHOLOGY, available at

Painting: “La Cape Rose” (watercolor on paper) by French Symbolist painter Odilon Redon (1840-1916).