Getting out the clothes for Summer

Getting out the clothes for summer
All the summers past come back,
Fragrant as the flox, and fuller
Than the summers were, in fact.

All the rush of summer color
In these dresses, and their flair,
Chiffon light as summer breezes,
Brighter than the summers were.

Let me wish, then, not for summer
But for moods of summer, mine,
Not the summers I remember
But the summers I have been

A believer in forever,
Sailing on polluted seas,
Unbeknownst to me the coral
Whitening beneath the waves.

And unknown, still unsuspected,
Like the North Pacific gyre —
Plastics of debris collected
In an endless, stagnant isle —

How the trivia of living
And time passing would impale
Something in us still believing
To a prison of detail.

All the trash of our existence
Piled upon pelagic seas,
Our triumphant navigation
Trapped in their fixed vortices.

Give me, then, the mind of summer,
Lifting anchor, sail unfurled,
Every day a new encounter
In an ever-brightening world.

And to wear the clothes of summer
As a badge of their return,
Days imagined to recover,
Dresses I have never worn.