I had to share a poem by that name, don't you think? Snow fell yesterday, and I spent part of my day today raking (yet again given our many trees). The summer has ended and is therefore lost to us. I can hardly read this poem without humming one of the psalm tones. It begs to be chanted! But I hope you enjoy and remember to savor the passing of the seasons.
"Psalm for a Lost Summer"
1. By the rivers of Estes Park, there we sat down, yes, we sighed, when we remembered Italy.
2. We pressed our pens against paper, and we sat under the pine trees, listening to the crows.
3. For there in Colorado we were captive at a high altitude, required to write without breath; and if we could not write, our consciences required us to read, and improve our minds.
4. How shall we write our poems in this strange land?
5. If I forget you, Venice, let my right hand forget to wind the fettuccini around the fork.
6. If I do not remember balmy Sorrento, let me never taste lemons again; if I prefer not Capri above my chief joy.
7. Remember, O Muse, the couple who strolled about Assisi; who said, How lovely this is, but next year let's vacation at home.
8. O Citizens of Assisi, do not blame us for the earthquake that destroyed your basilica; how happy we were, looking at your frescos during a thunderstorm.
9. Happy we shall be again, when we dash from this rented cabin, and drive down from these great stone mountains forever, Amen.