A Summer That Isn’t Here
The sun is late. It should be near.
Or maybe I am wrong—it’s March, not clear.
The sky still holds the winter’s breath,
though spring pretends to chase its death.
I sit in class, the pages turn,
but nothing sticks, my thoughts still burn.
The teacher speaks, her words unwind,
but I am lost, I’m far behind.
I skate through streets not yet aglow,
where golden hours stretch and flow.
Where wheels hum low on softened tar,
like whispers from a dream afar.
The air will thicken, slow and sweet,
with melted drinks and sunburnt heat.
The night will hum with neon skies,
where fireflies wear small disguise.
But school is here.
School is now.
The scribbled notes, the furrowed brow,
the weight of days that blur and drown.
And yet, I watch for summer’s hand,
to brush its warmth across this land.
It does not rush, it moves with grace,
but still, it comes—I know its face.
By Czarina Sachi
This is a beautifully written poem that’s full of contrasts – the idea of summer’s slow approach, and then the sad absence of summer and frustration of the school setting. The sounds throughout are delicate and musical, with the subtle but effective rhyme scheme allowing you to make some ingenious end word choices, like the rhyme of ‘unwind’ and ‘behind’ and the memorable sound-image of ‘where wheels hum low on softened tar’. You have a real talent for rhyme! The calm sense of resolution and resilience expressed by the poem’s final lines is uplifting. A really well-achieved and lyrical poem.