summer in your house
the morning light poured in
spilling on the chenille
like warm milk
dishes clattering in the kitchen
as you made breakfast
summer in your house
the morning light poured in
spilling on the chenille
like warm milk
dishes clattering in the kitchen
as you made breakfast
the heat stifles
flowers wilt
fruit ripens
(as do I)
August is approaching
I think about those days of barefeet, scraped knees, sunburns, mosquito bites and garden dirt…
with the fear of stagnation
she became a shapeshifter
there were those hot sticky nights
picnics by flashlight on the dewey grass
waiting for the fireworks
we chased fireflies