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Image for post
Lanzarote sands, Lanzarote, 2017 — photograph by Ben Weinberg

Summertime, and the livin’ is easy…
Been such a long cold, lonely winter…
but now you’re here
nothing but blue skies from now on…
summer breeze makes me feel fine.
Ain’t life a beach.

But what if summer came, and came to stay.
Days of endless, pitiless blue,
what song would we sing then?
Endless fields of amber grain
gone to dust and sand,
forests scorched, and gasping creatures
crawling from the sea.

In fashion this season;
the new bronze — desert varnish
sun-bleached days,
dust bowl sunsets,
nights of fire and anxiety.
An age of wondering. A time of questions posed;
What more can tomorrow bring?
What is nation called that has no home?
Is paradise lost if it’s thrown away?

And regrets, of all that could have been,
all the unkept promises,
as empty as blossoms that fall before they fruit,
as out of reach as the veil of rain curtains trailing from distant clouds
always falling, never reaching the ground.

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