The Last Summer

Image borrowed from Bing

The Last Summer

The children know it
The way they call to each other
the way they gather
to trim the branches
as at old rituals
their gentleness
When we were young, they say

The father
stooped as they are straight
goes from one to another
names them, consults
the dog's leg
some car trouble
always an object between them
He sits among them this summer
in his old T-shirt
His body absorbs them

The mother laughs often this summer
teases their friends
My daughter gave me
my son helped me, she tells me
She spins around them
ties up her plants
has them paint and paper
She thinks:
It will be nice for them
There may be a wedding
who knows
Five still at home
but not for long
She is the bravest
She says it
if only to herself
It is the last summer, she says
It is the last summer

Mary Ann Larkin

Posted over on the Writer's Almanac
"The Last Summer" by Mary Ann Larkin, from The Coil of the Skin