Labour Day Weekend

Labour Day weekend reminds many of us that summer is ending, that summer has passed into memory. Labour Day Weekend is the unofficial end of summer for many. So I wrote this poem about Labour Day weekend.
 
by Dave Hood
 
On a cloudy Labour Day weekend,
in a misty rain
I strolled in the sand,
on abandoned Wasaga Beach,
as waves rolled in, seagulls swooped down.
 
I watched a neighbor pack up,
leave the cottage behind,
a store owner close the ice cream shop,
Listened to kids chat about the new school year,
said goodbye to a few summertime friends
until next year.
God willing, I thought to myself.
 
Like a bolt of lightning, summer had passed.
A cool breeze reminded,
autumn would be arriving like a yearly visit
from a lifetime friend who rearranges your life
evokes elation and sadness.
 
Locking the cottage door,
strolling to my Chevy Cruze,
for the journey back to the city,
I think to myself: Life is all about endings
and new beginnings….
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About Dave Hood

Lover of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction. Professional photographer and writer. Without the arts, life would be rather mundane, like a walk down the same old path on a dull day.
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