Summer Poem

This is from Robert Hass’s “Santa Barbara Road” (in Human Wishes)  and it popped into my head this morning as I was thinking how nice it is that it’s light when you wake up and warm when you get out of the shower.

 

Everything rises from the dead in June .
There is some treasure hidden in the heart of summer
everyone remembers now, and they can’t be sure
the lives they live in will discover it.
They remember the smells of childhood vacations.
The men buy maps, raffish hats. Some women
pray to it by wearing blouses
with small buttons you have to button patiently,
as if to say, this is not winter, not
the cold shudder of dressing in the dark.