Off Season Poem by Bill Upton

Here it is again-
The annual heartbreaking, face to face call.
Mother Nature tugging away the roots of summer,
Though we plant our feet firmly in the sand to hold on,
Desperately trying to prevent an inevitable calendar turn.
The gray clouds are on the horizon now,
Marching relentlessly forward
Like generals advancing into war.
Yesterday's summer song fades to black
As it gets kidnapped by November's unsolicited RSVP.

This is that rainy day they talked about.
Here is the moment,
The exact moment about which songs and poems are tear jerkingly written.
The change of seasons comes today, right now,
And it is steeped in loss.
It is the last ride before the park closes,
The final pitch of the World Series,
The farewell kiss of summer love.
As we age, we long for eternal summers.
We don't like seeing leaves fall.
The loss of morning birds singing is a cruel setback.
Sunny walks hibernate and only resurrect in dreams.

Each year we lose part of our youth,
And this is where it is lost,
And this is how it is lost.

Funny, here's that rainy day.