goodbye, summer: you were supposed to save us

I cannot wait for fall parties. 

The invitations have begun to roll in. 

 

I used to think I loved summer parties 

until they got this year so sweaty and sad, 

 

the whole world away at the shore, 

sunk in sweet and salt. 

 

Goodbye, summer: 

you were supposed to save us 

 

from spring but everyone just slumped 

into you, sad sacks 

 

pulling the shade down on an afternoon 

of a few too many rounds. 

 

Well, I won’t have another. 

I’ll have fall. The fall of parties 

 

for no reason, of shivering rooftops, 

scuffed boots, scarves with cigarette holes. 

 

I’ll warm your house. 

I’ll snort your mulling spices. 

 

I’ll stay too late, I’ll go on a beer run, 

I’ll do anything 

 

to stay in your dimly lit rooms 

scrubbed clean of all their pity. 

 

[Becca Klaver, 'Fall Parties'. Originally published in Poem-a-Day]