The last emerald summer
popped hot in the pan—
buttery, like sweet corn and tomatoes,
like the last sultry twilight
I spent waiting for your heart to choose.
Even when the first leaves fell,
my eyes were on the evergreens
still convinced it would never snow.
© 2025 Jennifer Wagner
So vivid! Colors, smells, tastes and emotions erupt from this and cascade to a finish. Wonderfully mournful.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I love your comment <3
Delete8 lines to say a thing perfectly.
ReplyDeleteThanks for getting it, Shay, and for your sweet comment.
DeleteLove love love this poem. Most especially the first stanza! Mmmmm "buttery, like sweet corn and tomatoes'...
ReplyDeletereminds me of the early days of our marriage (and we've now been married 56 years) living on a farm in Iowa with our huge garden of sweet corn, tomatoes etc. Nothing like that first tomato and ear of corn, FRESH from the garden! Thanks for the memory :)
I'll echo Lillian's sentiments on emerald summers on our Iowa farm with sweet corn and our evergreen spruce grove. But I won't forget the snow either ;) Lovely poem, Jennifer!
ReplyDeletecomment by lynn :)
DeleteSo much said in a few lines Beautiful
ReplyDelete