Song of the Summer

Oh these are the days we are made to remember. These are the days that will glow
Like a flame in my heart in the cold of December. Still burning when I’m feeling low.

Don’t you know that these are the walks on jagged old sidewalks,  as trees break through concrete beneath,
These are the times I’ll keep fresh in my mind for my dreariest hour’s relief.

These are the smells of flowers and grass, as rain showers contest raging fires,
At a bonfire pit, as we laugh around it til the very last ember expires.

These are the flocks that all fly to the docks to feel warm river breath on their faces
At the season’s return, oh how each body yearns and each anticipating heart races.

In the swell of the heat with straps ‘cross my feet, I will wander and wonder and dream,  I Look for young love or for some great adventure not knowing which one I will meet.

There’s no need to be brave or to even be bold to converse and convene with new strangers
For with each new spring start we reopen our hearts and forget apprehension of danger.

The skin on my back turns a bbq tan and my cheeks burn deep red with delight
My every pore sweats, then the drenching sun sets, and my butterflies enter the night.

It’s the thrill of unknown with the comfort of home, like a gust of warm wind in the tree. It’s the starlight parade and then watching it fade. It’s the swings and the scraping of knees.

Picnics in parks and bright stars in the dark with a passionate love or alone.
Walking through petal puddles, in wet freezing huddles, and suddenly finding we’ve grown.

From the love and the loss, through the cold winter frost, and now  into renewal we
blossom.
We will try something new. I’ll learn something from you. And in awe we re-learn life is awesome.

These are times I forget to behave or to fret over money, and future, and goals.
My past dies with the chill, eyes wide open and filled, each new moment a some beauty unfolds.

The song of the summer is not soon forgotten, like carnival candy, on my tongue still sweet.
It’s the music that plays for the rest of our days,  in each soul with a sweltering
beat.

A song that we dance, as we seek out romance, in a glance, or a hand, or a voice.
And we lose all our clothes to the strong current flows of a time we’ll always rejoice.

We divinely lay back in a world free of lack,  for the season,  the day, now the hour…
Til our world gets so hot that our gardens may rot, so it’s blessed again by cool rain showers.

That day ends not the song, but our lovers are gone,  and the gardens have turned to compost.
We cover our feet as the summer retreats and we run out of mallows to roast.

Each one of these days is a magical haze in the minds of the old and the gray.
They can still feel the kiss that was pressed to their lips the arms that they wanted
to stay.

These are the days that we’re made to reach back for. These are the years that will glow
with the song of the summer in my life’s December. Behind eyes where age doesn’t show.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s