Central Park in New York CityA Poem on ‘Summer’s End’ by Jeffrey Essmann The Society September 25, 2023 Beauty, Poetry 10 Comments . In the Park ___It showed up in the green ___Today: that velveteen _Exhaustion that betokens summer’s end, ___Its richness but a sigh ___That warns the passerby _There’s nothing he can do now to defend __Himself against the tale retold— A winter’s tale that’s whispered softly in the cold. . . Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Agape Review, America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Trending now: 10 Responses Monika Cooper September 25, 2023 “Velveteen exhaustion” is so good. And so is the ending: winter is a long story we have to steel ourselves to hear again. Reply Maura Harrison September 25, 2023 Lovely. I agree with Monika; “velveteen exhaustion” is an excellent pair of words. Reply Joseph S. Salemi September 25, 2023 An interesting vignette of seasonal change. I notice that it moves from summer to winter, without a mention of the fall. I’m not familiar with this stanza form, which seems to be: Trimeter A Trimeter A Pentameter B Trimeter C Trimeter C Pentameter B Tetrameter D Hexameter D Is this a nonce form, or does it have a history? Perhaps someone can identify it for me. Reply Jeffrey J Essmann September 25, 2023 Hello Joseph: I lifted the scheme from Milton. Reply jd September 25, 2023 Lovely poem, Jeffrey for a sad event. Reply Cynthia Erlandson September 25, 2023 This is beautiful, Jeffrey. I enjoyed both the content — I’m kind of obsessed with the seasons and their transitions— and the Miltonic stanza form. Reply Martin Rizley September 25, 2023 I love poems about the change of seasons, and this one is quite effective– short, conveying both a picture and a mood with some striking word choices that prepare the reader for the poignant closing line, which highlights the theme of mutability and the certain approach of winter, from whose cold touch nothing green will escape. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant September 26, 2023 Exquisitely beautiful! Thank you, Jeffrey! Reply Cynthia Erlandson September 26, 2023 P.S. Jeffrey, I also really loved your recent poem “Cana” in the Catholic Poetry Room. Reply Jeffrey Essmann September 26, 2023 Thanks so much, everyone, for your kind appreciation of this poem. It was, I have to admit, a happy accident. On nights when I sit down to write and have no ongoing project or particular idea in mind, I do an “exercise night”: I arbitrarily pick a subject, choose a scheme from a favorite poet, do my best and see what happens. So I thought, “I’ll do something about the park this afternoon…” (I’ve been PRAYING to Wordsworth to teach me how to do nature poetry) and, while at first I thought I’d pull a scheme from Spenser, I drifted toward Milton instead (I’ve been reading Paradise Lost; expect a devil poem one of these days…). And green is my favorite color—and was indeed striking in the park that day—so I threw it into my opening line and went from there. So glad the final product landed with so many people whose talent and opinions I respect. Thanks again. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Monika Cooper September 25, 2023 “Velveteen exhaustion” is so good. And so is the ending: winter is a long story we have to steel ourselves to hear again. Reply
Maura Harrison September 25, 2023 Lovely. I agree with Monika; “velveteen exhaustion” is an excellent pair of words. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi September 25, 2023 An interesting vignette of seasonal change. I notice that it moves from summer to winter, without a mention of the fall. I’m not familiar with this stanza form, which seems to be: Trimeter A Trimeter A Pentameter B Trimeter C Trimeter C Pentameter B Tetrameter D Hexameter D Is this a nonce form, or does it have a history? Perhaps someone can identify it for me. Reply
Cynthia Erlandson September 25, 2023 This is beautiful, Jeffrey. I enjoyed both the content — I’m kind of obsessed with the seasons and their transitions— and the Miltonic stanza form. Reply
Martin Rizley September 25, 2023 I love poems about the change of seasons, and this one is quite effective– short, conveying both a picture and a mood with some striking word choices that prepare the reader for the poignant closing line, which highlights the theme of mutability and the certain approach of winter, from whose cold touch nothing green will escape. Reply
Cynthia Erlandson September 26, 2023 P.S. Jeffrey, I also really loved your recent poem “Cana” in the Catholic Poetry Room. Reply
Jeffrey Essmann September 26, 2023 Thanks so much, everyone, for your kind appreciation of this poem. It was, I have to admit, a happy accident. On nights when I sit down to write and have no ongoing project or particular idea in mind, I do an “exercise night”: I arbitrarily pick a subject, choose a scheme from a favorite poet, do my best and see what happens. So I thought, “I’ll do something about the park this afternoon…” (I’ve been PRAYING to Wordsworth to teach me how to do nature poetry) and, while at first I thought I’d pull a scheme from Spenser, I drifted toward Milton instead (I’ve been reading Paradise Lost; expect a devil poem one of these days…). And green is my favorite color—and was indeed striking in the park that day—so I threw it into my opening line and went from there. So glad the final product landed with so many people whose talent and opinions I respect. Thanks again. Reply