Summer Nostalgia

a farewell to the season and the summer produce series + an announcement!!

It’s September 1st, which means summer is officially winding down. As I look back on this season, the word bittersweet continues to come to mind. I’ve cried and grieved this summer, and it almost feels like a betrayal. Isn’t summer supposed to be happy? Sunshine only? But, the thing is: I’ve laughed, smiled, and grown, too.

And so, a poem.

Truth be told, I didn’t know where I was going with this one until I realized the way my daughter eats cucumbers is the way I need to deal with the events of the last couple of months. To accept the bitter. To embrace it and then leave it behind. To move forward only with what’s sweet. To taste and see goodness.

Summer Nostalgia is the last poem of mine in

Claire

and I’s Summer Produce Series. In July, both of us committed to sharing a poem-a-week using seasonal fruits or vegetables as prompts, and it’s been the most fun!

To Claire: thank you for agreeing to do this series with me and for the lovely words you’ve shared—they’re always an inspiration!! I hope we can write more poetry together in the future.

To my subscribers: thank you for reading and for taking the time to leave feedback and encouragement on all of these poems. It’s meant the world to me. Also, a question: should I do another series? And if so, does anyone have any suggestions or ideas? Let me know in the comments!

Keep scrolling to read Summer Nostalgia and an announcement at the end of this post.

Summer Nostalgia

My daughter bites into cucumbers rind and all, 
never bothering to ask me to peel it off.
She chews, bit by bit, until the hard skin 
becomes too much for her baby teeth to gnaw 
and the bitter taste of dark green seeps 
onto her sensitive tongue. 

Then, there’s no more savoring,
only spitting out. A sifting through of what’s unworthy
of being kept, swallowed.  
I make note of how many times she does this—
chew, taste, spit, swallow, repeat—
until all that’s left is an empty plate. 

So, I take this summer  
of cucumbers, of bittersweetness,  
and do the same.    

  - r.e.g. 

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Now, for an ANNOUNCEMENT:

Up until now, I haven’t opened this page up to paid subscriptions. I wasn’t really planning on doing it until I began considering a snail mail poetry club of sorts.

So, here is my proposition: when it comes to sharing my weekly poems, In Light of Eternity will remain open and free to all. However, there is now an option to become a paid subscriber.

As a paid subscriber… you will receive a poetry print from me in the mail, every month. You’ll also be entered into a yearly giveaway for a custom poem and (although the focus of my blog is poetry) you’ll get access to non-poetry posts (essays, book recommendations, and the like), whenever I share those.

If you’re anything like me, you would agree that receiving letters in mail (that aren’t bills) is one the best feelings. So, in an attempt to return to the analog in this digital age, I invite you to sign up and look forward to a poetry print every month. Let’s become poetry pen pals! To give you all a sneak peek, I’m including a free poetry printable of my piece, Golden, below.

If you’re already a free subscriber, but would like to become a paid subscriber and receive a monthly poetry print in the mail, this link shows you how you can update your current subscription to In Light of Eternity.

*This offer is for US subscribers only*