I had a dream about my first critique group, it was weird as dreams are, and I woke up with words on my mind. I listened. They had no obvious connection to the dream; they were just the beginning of the following poem. So, I wrote them down and, after a moment, the rest followed. When the thought was complete, the connection became clear to me. That’s not important to you, but maybe you’ll get something from the poem anyway.
Now, but oh …
There is frost on the pumpkin now,
but oh …
I remember summer.
Pink gold dawns
of dewy silence,
sigh and stretch and linger.
White bright noon
with chattering girls,
hopes and fears and laughter.
Dark hot nights
under dreamy boy,
lips and tongues and splendor.
There is frost on the pumpkin now,
but oh …
I remember summer.
Copyright © 2009 Linda Cassidy Lewis
Linda Cassidy Lewis 
Great poem, it is full of nostalgia. Thanks for sharing!
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You’re welcome, Jennifer.
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You evoke a tangible sense of melancholy (but pleasant remembering) with this. Great job.
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Thank you, Cathryn. Melancholy, but pleasant … with a secret smile.
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