Mother, Summer, I | A poem by Philip Larkin, 1953

Philip with his mother Eva in the Duke’s Head Hotel, King’s Lynn
July 1971 (The estate of Philip Larkin)

My mother, who hates thunder storms,
Holds up each summer day and shakes
It out suspiciously, lest swarms
Of grape—dark clouds are lurking there;
But when the August weather breaks
And rains begin, and brittle frost
Sharpens the bird—abandoned air,
Her worried summer look is lost,

And I her son, though summer—born
And summer—loving, none the less
Am easier when the leaves are gone
Too often summer days appear
Emblems of perfect happiness
I can’t confront: I must await
A time less bold, less rich, less clear:
An autumn more appropriate.

Philip Larkin, Mother, Summer, I, 1953

Also:
Born Yesterday | A poem by Philip Larkin, 1954
This Be The Verse | A poem by Philip Larkin, 1971
Aubade | A poem by Philip Larkin, 1977