Surreal Summertime Remembering 

Bob, , , , 
A summer wind
Short-cuts

Through the rip
In the screen door

Has eyebrows 
Like sacred groves. 

*

A chance of rain puddle
For dinner. 

Our guests are nonlinear 
Outcomes. 

Moustache handlebars
Of cumulus nativity.

*

A sense of collaborating
With the sea spray

Parries everything but
The rocks below.

*

In the midst of a field
A meandering salute.

All alone yet guided
By an inward proclivity.

15 thoughts on “Surreal Summertime Remembering ”

  3. Sometime, somewhere I remember. a bumper sticker or maybe I overheard it at a bar, something to the effect of “what we do might seem meaningless, but do it anyway.” That last line “inward proclivity” reminds me of that…of the value in repetition and ritual and what not, maybe a “collaborating with the sea spray?” every day which works in the winter too with our Great Lakes. Have a great Sunday Bob! Go Bills. Big games against the Lions.

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    1. Thanks Steve. I like that, what we may do may be meaningless, but we do it anyway. There’s something in that for sure. And that’s what I had in mind with the inward proclivity, something inside us directing us. Yes, big game for the Bills. Should be a good one. Go Bills!

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      1. I run into problems when that something inside me instructs me to do stupid things like email a girl 10 times before she emails me back resulting in her thinking I’m either a creep or stalking her or both. Ughhh. But I do learn my lesson and leave her alone after the 10th.

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  4. Super surreality! I really enjoyed this. I thought of how Ray Bradbury talked of drinking dandelion wine in winter to remind himself of summer, and of my grandfather yelling at us kids to not let the screen door slam. I raise a toast of dandelion wine to you and the guests of nonlinear outcomes (I love that stanza) before we sip on rain puddle soup. Bob, thanks for stirring summer into a pot of poetry and serving it to us 🌞

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