Summer Solstice Poem by Gary Freedman

The lonely, grated metal table starts the day,
an adjustment is made to apprehend
that the other chairs are empty. The June morning
beautiful and still to be, should woo me with
its early luminescence. Yet
the appetite is not shared, lost somewhere in memory.

How lucky the horizon is blue and needs
no handwriting on its emptiness. I am
written on thoroughly, a plagiarized novel
found again. I remember the predictable plot too late, realize the silly, sad urgency of my plight.

'Do you always watch for the longest day of the year
and then miss it?
I always watch for the longest day in the year
and then miss it.'