How Many Summers

I couldn’t wait to rush through the seasons.
They used to linger like three a.m. guests.
I’d complain of them for selfish reasons 
Till the hands of the clock stopped my protests.
What a thing, to raise my head and feel this
As I give way to thoughts of yesterday.
The sun and surf that once brought only bliss 
Make me ponder the time that’s passed away.
Life’s what you make it and there’s more ahead -
I have not taken leave of my senses -
But dreams can succumb to decay and dread 
And eradicate our best defenses.
I understand what fortune can allow,
But how many summers have I left now?
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