Tuesday, June 7, 2022

Summer Climates Among the Vines


Summer Heat

The wisteria might not bloom.

Months after sprouting curling branches,

temperamental vines know the weather is changing.

Perhaps she heard screeches from the

brazen bougainvillea that latched onto our window screens.

Thorns lacerating left and right—creating holes--

a magenta blur on windy days.

“Let me in! It’s coming,” she seems to scream.

Two hot days and the tender clematis surrenders.

Arrogant weeds are in their glory.


Meanwhile the frolicking jasmine,

holds a perfume competition with the roses.

Though most lemons are gone—

squeezed into winter recipes--

barely enough for a pitcher of lemonade--

their new blossoms add a joyful citrus scent,

luring us out—

into the shade,

where pale green matures into a bold,

 fragrant palette.


Until late summer—

when the desperate vines cling—

droop and wither with abandon.

When the parched grass fades to yellow,

and we now smell our neighbor’s barbecue,

tropical scented sunblock,

a floral fabric softener that reminds us of wisteria.

The time comes--

when even the dastardly weeds wither and die.



Eve Gaal