what will
this summer hold
now that it won’t hold you
I have two classes to take
both are have-to-dos
versus want-to-dos
I have my plane ticket
for Michigan to see my friends
the last week of summer
but that is
forever
away
I know I’ll paint
and write
and read
I want to hear
an inordinate amount
of live music to fill my soul
and grill a good steak
lots of fresh fish
and a pineapple or two
I’ll tutor
to make
bank
and hopefully
see a lot of my family
newly back in Colorado
my cat
is claiming my lap
and affection right now
but I’m hoping
my heart will open wide
this summer
while it’s still healing
from losing you
there’s still much love inside
even if it’s for
the first thunder storm
and the smell of petrichor
or seeing a pelican
in flight over my head
at the lake
or a Perseid
upon which to cast
all my unwished wishes
still nestling
in my heart beside the memories
of you
on this shiny new
first day of summer break
I breathe in possibility
and hope flickers
beside the sun shadows
in the garden
and joy
becomes
an option
Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry is widely published, two of her poems have won international contests and one was turned into a choral piece. Jennifer has 12 books of poetry.
