It’s close to, or at, 90 today here in L.A. The air conditioning in the car didn’t work so great and I don’t have any in my house, but I do have a pool so that’s the place I cooled my steaming body after going on errands to the pet store, Bed, Bath & Beyond and Whole Foods. I pulled all the fans out of the closets and their all set and blowing. Summer is here.

I’m still working my way around this blog site. I want to change the header and fonts and put some photos in but can’t quite navigate that part of the technology yet. I have friends, though, who I’m relying on to put this whole thing right. It’s funny just typing away not sure who’s going to read what’s here and if anyone will read what is here. Ah, therein lies the faith part of this blogging–that someone, a few someones want to hear what I’m jotting down and share their own thoughts and, I hope, poems. Speaking of which…I’m heading over to the bookcase here in a second to find a nice cool poem to jot down…

I know you won’t believe this (I wouldn’t except it just happened to me) but the first book I pulled out was Queen for a Day by Denise Duhamel and the first page I opened to was a poem called “Summer.” I hear all you doubters out there. You gotta believe…Here’s the poem. Oh, if you’re a fan of Duhamel or want to know more about her, her husband, Nick Carbo (also a poet) has a blog that’s fun at www.carbonator.blogspot.com.

Summer

My mother’s wet feet left paw prints on the deck,

her arches fallen like a bear’s

She sat in her polar white bathing suit,

her calves dangling in the pool.

Once we were sure she’d eaten our father

when he didn’t come home from work.

Her hands pounced at the innocent air

as a bee circled her hairsprayed chignon.

Then she slept in the lounge chair all afternoon.