No pigeons were harmed during the writing of this poem.

Silly When It's Chilly

When I see the first red leaf
(usually just before Labor Day)
light a small blaze in the maple

next to the bricks of St Lucy's,
I throw confetti off my porch
and let out a cry of "Shazam!"

The first time the weathergal
warns of frost in the suburbs
(often in late September), I

shout the lyrics of "Tubthumping"
or I chase the front-lawn squirrels.
You'll never, ever get me down.

When mid-October rolls
forty-five for a postnoon high,
when All Saints Day or Veterans'

brings flurries to Keene and Jaffrey,
when the first few flakes fall
here, in Arlington, just outside Boston,

somewhere around Thanksgiving
or the First Sunday in Advent --
then I get seriously goofy.

I guzzle Fish Eye cabernet
from the screwtop six-dollar bottle
and text my long-suffering ex:

"Let's eat fried dough and drink cider
and perpetrate shenanigans!
Let's go to Grendel's Den

and regale the waitresses with
our Freddie Mercury imitations!
Let's throw Nerf balls at pigeons

in Winthrop Park! Let's cuddle
outside the Unitarian church
as a busker plays Stairway!"

Tersely, she'll text back:
Can't. Busy. Work.
But as Matthew Wilder sang

in the fall of '83: ain't nothin'
gonna break-a my stride.
You'll find me in Harvard Square

trying cartwheels, farcically failing,
and belting out "Moondance"
to the puzzlement of traffic cops.




Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 156 times
Written on 2017-07-10 at 07:43

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A fine poem. Autumn comes a little later here in Nebraska, and I rue its arrival as I bring in the lawn furniture and drain the pool.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Tom.


by Thomas DeFreitas