A spot of shade to block the sun.

A patch of grass to lie upon.

A breath of breeze on sweated skin

Some sand to sink your bare feet in.

Holding hands and giving thanks,

Ice cream Sunday, Grampa cranks,

Horshoe pits and fishing poles,

Huckleberry days of old.

A golden flow of moonlit beams.

Glow-flies glow and crickets sing.

A Whip-or-will cries low and deep

While lovers woo and children sleep.

We closed tightly within a space meant for one

as we hid behind belongings that blocked out the sun

I held her tightly knowing it would soon end

as light draped in, her body did bend

Relief and elation, but truth soon followed

the months and the years, proved fears swallowed

It’s a simple thing, this summertime

when life seems easy, but is covered in rime

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ☀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀☀⠀

sweet

summer sun

dripping down slowly

caramel melting in the heat

droplets of sunshine

cascade down

on us

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀☀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀☀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

☀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀☀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀

Summer

Is just a bummer

In this God forsaken place.

Damp and cold

It’s really a disgrace.

But when the sun appears, so briefly, sharing warmth,

The flowers bloom

The children sing

As birds fly through the light

And grateful sky.

Steaming plants

Evaporate the bitterness of endless rainfall

And for a while

The world spins as it should.

Until the cold returns

With wind and rain

And threats of worse to come

A few short days,

Or weeks at most

Of English summer

It’s such a bummer!

Summer has come again

But where are you, my friend?

Walking down the streets alone

Knowing that it was never home.

The radiance of the brightest sun

Has faded now that day is done

Summertime can never last

Only memories from the past.

After summer is only rain

Heaven’s pristine tears drain

They hit the asphalt, cold and black

A sign that you’ll never come back.

Can summertime arrive once more?

Will light filter through the door?

My thoughts and prayers to heaven sent

I wish that summer did never end.

I am one of four horsemen,

four seasons, four parts—

hot to the touch

(hot too much)

with sand that finds its way to your heart.

I have two kinds of waves:

one lovely, one sunny,

for surfing or tanning your skin;

for temps I am more

than the cold you desire to be in.

Don’t tease me,

don’t look me

in the eye,

for the summer is sun,

and in sun you’ll go blind—

don’t be mad,

just keep this in mind.

Think beach, think free,

think sunshine and bees,

but with these you’ve put me in a box;

I’m a lot

more fun

than a swim or a run

in the sand that rubs your toes ’til they’re hot.

I say I am summer

but don’t trust my word,

I’ve been known to be what I want:

a cool spring rain

or blistering pain

to replace the joy you assign to your jaunt.

I can mean you are free,

I can bring sun and bees,

but still,

I have a heart of my own;

If you’ll let me send you there—

to my special summer air—

I promise a little sand between your toes.

With the showers of summer

I will play

When the sun beams come here

I will be away

It will be fun

But when its done

It won’t be

If you agree

No more sitting under the tree

I’ll need a key

for the house

Cause gone be my mom wearing a blouse

No more pool

Back will be school

Not long which is cruel

Bored sittin on a stool

Dreamin of a mule

Riding to school in a carpool

I will be bored

In the hall with a horde

Your going to be scored

On a test

Feeling streesed

Summer isn’t a bummer

It is awesome

Flowers will blossom

Tryin to draw some

always on a rythm

And also swimmin

Takin my time

Makin some slime

With the color of lime

The end

Of the bend

That drill was hopping ass up and down...

...Boy, it loved so to fuck the sweet dirt!...

and the soil sizzled red-hot and brown,

looked as if the fierce sun truly burnt

all the grass right outta this town,

leaving not a spare sprig in his sight...

...but this always was Jesse’s job,

and if he had to he’d hang here all night

he would do it for their lil’ girl

who was nowhere now closer to three...

through chesnut curls he’d see her smile

bouncin’ right there on his knee...

now as he felt his pearly whites

rattle wild like mad bees in his head,

as if gangs of billard balls broke

loose from pockets with hardly a thread,

he imagined tiny Sally, and

her Mama Margerie who’d

won his heart and hawked it

for a plot, and blue RV...

They lived close to Marges Mama,

but Jes couldn’t give a plug...

she was over more then they’d wanna,

tho the fishwife would bring the hot fudge...

so through it all they loved and they lived

in these pockets of borrowed time...

...and there weren’t a thing that

Marge wouldn’t do for this man

with his heart hanging wet on the line...

...besides that she worked her

fool hands off

at the factory nearly each day,

and when she came home

her shit back ached,

but when bleary eyes met, she’d assuage...

That drill was hopping ass up and down...

...Boy, it loved so to fuck the sweet dirt!...

and the soil sizzled red-hot and brown,

looked as if the fierce sun truly burnt

all the grass right outta this town,

leaving not a spare sprig in his sight...

...but this always was Jesse’s job,

and if he had to he’d hang here all night.

©

5/23/19

Bunny Villaire

(Edit #2)

Beverly is a summer child and her first love is the swimming pool at her apartment complex.

She is a latch key kid heading into third grade come fall. Mom is at work, dad is overseas, and, her sister is in her bedroom with a gentleman caller. To be accurate, fuck buddy.

Beverly’s straightened hair will turn kinky the moment her hair touches the water, knowing this will piss off her mom.

She puts on her swimsuit, squeezes her toes into flip flops, grabs a towel, her pool card, and, puts the house key on a string around her neck.

Beverly skips along the path to the pool pulling at the tall grass; grasshoppers springing up like popcorn; her favorite summer scent of wild basil swaddled in the hot breeze.

She shows her card, finds an open spot at the edge of the pool and slips in. There is an effortless joy she feels in the water. She turns her face skyward with eyes closed, blinded by the sunlight.

The lifeguard she has a crush on comes over and asks her if she’s ready for the test. Yes, she says. She swims the length of the pool and he gives her a thumps up. She proudly walks over to the high dive. She holds on tight as she climbs to the top. The board is wet but not slippery.

She holds her nose as she jumps feet first and is startled by the depth she goes down into the water. She panics just a little and climbs up quickly. She’s fine.

She looks around for the lifeguard to see if he watched her, but she can’t find him.

Maybe she can convince her sister to come and watch. Maybe her mom will come home early. Maybe when her dad gets back.

The next day Beverly goes to the swimming pool. She skips along the path.