There’s something about midsummer that always feels a little contradictory to me.
It’s the brightest part of the year. The season of late sunsets, warm rocks by the water, and evenings that seem to stretch on forever. Yet it’s also the point where summer begins to slip away. Before we know it, the days start growing shorter again.
The three poems below were written at different times, but they all circle around that feeling: trying to hold onto a season that never stays quite long enough.
I hope you enjoy them.
Midsummer Storm
I am a midsummer storm, breaking free— flowing through green meadows in search of the sea. I am the whisper that slips through your ear at night, the soft kiss on your skin left by twilight’s drought. A letter forgotten on the windowsill, taken by the evening wind. When you wake, you’ll think I was a fleeting dream— I am nowhere to be found, yet in the air you breathe.
A Summer Already Gone
As I walk my childhood shore, I think of a time long gone— salty cliffs, wind from the sea, running on docks, jumping in waves. An endless season I believed was mine— seaweed tangled in my hands, shells the ocean left behind. Warming my feet on sun-warmed stone as evening drew in. Perhaps it's too late to mourn the summer that never came, the one already gone.
Where Summer Ends
Yet another summer slips through my fingers, carried off by the foam of waves. On the horizon, autumn lingers — storm-heavy winds brooding over the bay. But for now, I bury my feet in the pebbles of my childhood's beach, watching them ripple circles in the water — breaking the surface, sinking beneath.
Thank you for reading
Are you celebrating Midsummer this year? If so, I hope the weather is good, the strawberries are sweet, and you get at least one quiet moment to enjoy the light.
Happy Midsummer,
Jonna
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