poetry, Travel

Farewell to Summer

Sunflowers outside Siena, flickr, by Cristos.
Sunflowers outside Siena, flickr, by Cristos.

Sunflowers bloom anytime between June and July in Tuscany. The hotter the weather, the earlier they bloom and this summer was a scorcher.

My friend and I traveled between Siena, San Gimignano, and Montalcino during the second week of September.

Swaying stalks of sunflowers waved a tricolor swath. The egg yolk yellow of youth, the gold of prime time, and the sepia color of age.

By the time we left Siena, last week, the sunflower fields became a personal haiku.


Once golden, bronzed

heads bid farewell to a

summer of brilliance


Goodbye, summer.

I look forward to the colors of autumn and traveling to Denver, CO to see the vibrant shades of fall.

Enjoy your last summer weekend!

Family, Family time, Inspiration, Latino Family Traditions, poetry, Poetry Month

Poetry On Wednesday-Nostalgia


Summer days at the river
Summer days at the river

Warmer weather has me thinking of summer. Summer, when I was a kid. A long time ago.

We were poor in funds, rich in family, and too young to know or care that some kids went away to summer camp.

We camped too, by the river or at Salton Sea (my least favorite place), sleeping on blankets inside or outside a tent—if there was one.

Tios, tias, primos/Uncles, aunts, cousins gathered together a few times during the sweltering summers in Pomona, California.

I don’t know if there is such a thing as a ‘memoir’ poem, but my nostalgia for the summer days of childhood brought these words:


Sounds of Summer


Salty air, scorching sand

burning toes,

scents of sulfur

linger over Salton Sea


Picnics on Cucamonga river

sage scented air

mesquite smoke

earthy campfire coffee

aromas cross-bred forever


Sprays of cool water,

float over inner tubes

sunburned skin,

cutoff shorts




Slippery river rock         

pollywogs tickling feet

water spiders causing shrieks

kids dash, splash, laugh


Watermelons wedged between rocks

sticky sweet juice drips over 

dusty smiling faces

don’t swallow the seeds

images of tiny melons planted in bellies


Corn silk floating beside

shucked leaves piled high

diced green chiles

juicy tomatoes

pungent onions

the click clack of knives against cutting boards


White hot glowing embers

full stomachs on cool nights

warm ponchos, cold beer

a seat in the circle of camping chairs


Stories among the songs of long ago

no s’mores, but

smiles of contentment while

campfire smoke drifts

into memory


flower seeds crack

salty lips, drowsy eyes

flashlight shadow puppets 

on tent covered walls

sounds of family 

sounds of summer



What do you remember of your childhood summers?