A Corona is not your summer.

Not your bathing suit.

Not your pool.

The lager does not define the day.

The laidback vibe on an ocean shore

Whispering a rhythmic “hush”  

As the waves pound against the sand.

That’s my summer.

The whiskey is not your winter.

Not your coat.

Not your shovel.

The spirit does not predict the climate.

The sting of the snow blown into your face

Leaving behind a tightened flesh

Red and rosy standing out amidst a whiteout.

That’s my winter.

My winter waistline does not cry for the summer

But for the sweet breath of my long lost wave.

My summer bronze does not seek to be covered by a parka

But for the warm blanket and the fire on a frigid January evening.

Moments defined by memories.



Not price tags.


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7 thoughts on “Antithiseasons

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  1. You’ve used metaphors to such good effect here. It was also easy to be carried along with the meter through your clever use of repetition and interspersed punchy, short lines. The association of particular drinks with particular seasons also worked very well.

    I felt like tightening the scansion, and the verb + dependent preposition issues in the lines “My summer bronze does not seek to be covered by a parka/But for the warm blanket and the fire on a frigid January evening” would have really strengthened this piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, very nice. I liked the association and contrast with the drinks and the seasons as well. And I liked the line about the frigid January evenings, too. My favorite kind of weather, actually. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is an interesting discussion about what I took to be about either body image or alcoholism. Either way it’s about recapturing control of one’s life. I wonder about the “you” in the poem. Whether it’s specific or collective. The penultimate single word lines took some of the wallop out of the last line.

    Liked by 1 person

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