It is that last cool breath before the summer’s warmth. Field upon field of heaped greens sway in a ripening wind waiting for the sun to impart its own gold colouring upon them. Not quite foodstuffs, nor still seedlings dreaming of life, they prepare to change. As do we all.
What colour the summer sky
Frost on the window
Makes geometric patterns
Unlike the dawn’s mist
Obscuring a garden view
Does not erase our summers
Lost November Evenings
An abundance of daylight stole our nights. Fireside flickerings fell away like fireflies in the sun. The glimmering moon became less than a luxurious, ocean pearl and more of an ofttimes limpet attached to the sky. The evenings were less subtle for its diminishment. Summertime madness had spread too much for my liking, the sun so unwilling to set had outstayed its welcome. I missed our lost November evenings like I did our love with not a corner of darkness in which to crawl. I prayed for our ebony nights to return. Your return, too.
The day still held a sharp residue of summer, a citric tang. Memories of those early years picking lemons off the trees, how it felt like holding the sun, sneaking bites then wrinkling our faces, a flood of yellows past washed over me like an August storm. They were hot those yesterdays, so very hot.
Memories resurfaced of times forgotten. I could almost taste the sweat rolling down my face again. It used to tickle at my lips and then hang like a mountain climber scaling an overhang waiting for gravity to do its thing. Next came the choice: lick or shake? I always licked; it was a salty temptation.
I was young, innocent, untouched by the dreams of others, instead, dwelling in my own. Life was good. Citrine was the colour of those dreams and I missed every one of them.
Spring petals turning
Those transient hours of light
Where pink brushes green
So young like a first warm day
We gently kissed the summer
Her name was April
But I always called her June
Ever my Summer
Gazing out at summer scenes
Where flowers bloom and birds are seen
Does lighten hearts, souls set free
I think thats how it’s meant to be
As cloud will float across the sky
Without a care for you or I
But that is not the space I view
For every cloud reminds of you
Your every little fault made sweet
The things that make our love complete
So as I gaze at summer scenes
Just know that you are in my dreams