Poetry
The Heat of Our Plight
On mourning a season lost

Summertime and the livin’ ain’t breezy. Folks are Trumpin’ and the death toll is high.
The summertime I remember had nothing to do with staying indoors.
Nothing to do with long days and nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Nothing to do with avoiding friends, family, and fun in the sun.
Nothing to do with face shields and hand sanitizer and manic shoppers.
Nothing to do with sickness and dying and presidential lying.
Nothing to do with the feeling that something has been irrevocably lost.
No. The summertime I remember had nothing to do with those things and everything to do with the sense that we could bottle time, like a fine wine to be opened and shared and savored.
Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.
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