The Books and Writings of
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

  Summer Losses
by Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

Every year
around this time
the sun is up
the weather's fine
I watch the kids
both hers and mine
go swimming in the lake.

The water's green
the sky is blue
the grass has dried
to a golden hue
and cicadas sing
their long adieu
as we wait beside the lake.

Songbirds fly
between the trees
and children's wails
are on the breeze
while closer by
the sleepy bees
drone softly near the lake.

The girls stand on
the pebbled shore
the boys go out
a little more
but no one moves
none can ignore
the diver in the lake.

The sheriff says
just wait and see
but I glance at
the E.M.T.
whose ambulance
sits idly
at the dock beside the lake.

He checks his watch
and shakes his head
stubs out his smoke
in the graveled bed
and knows a boy
of mine lies dead
at the bottom of that lake.

Now every year
around this time
when the sun is up
and the weather's fine
I wonder if
the grand design
has made a grand mistake.

By stealing youth
instead of age
by thrashing love
and planting rage
it cost me more
than I can gauge
on the shores of our lonely lake.


All contents ©2001-2010 Kurt R.A. Giambastiani