Summer has come smoothly
one season into the other
like well-practiced lovers.
I'd believe it a portent if
such things still existed.
What can it mean to me
that the blue river ice has
gone noiselessly in the night,
again like those lovers,
knowing it's time to leave?
What can it mean that chiefs
and sons of chiefs have
awakened to suddenly
open rivers, a sure sign,
they say, of scarce game
and only the smallest berries?
Michael James Erdedy is a graphic designer
in Seattle(All Summer in a Day) Washington. His work has appeared in various small print journals as well as online
in Eclectica magazine.