where the blueboots go

Summer is full of sensory joys.

 

It is

best for

beaches

            salt, grit, crunch and sploosh

book sales

            50 ¢! for old tales on well-worn pages,

            leaving lingering scents from past homes

berries

            sweet and full, in jeweled tones

baseball games

            clap of bat to ball, the roar of cheering

            smell of relish, ketchup, popcorn

buzzzzz

            winged bugs zipline on the wind,

            sometimes hurrying, sometimes aimless

            that hummmm of the air conditioner

            pulsing waves of cool ushering in naps

            between icy clinks swirling

            miniature glaciers in tumblers.

season of

shrieks

            childlike, joyous, untethered notes

silence

            with space wide enough for dreams

sunsets

            swathes of translucent

             blended pink, purple, blues

songs

            instruments

            from tiny avian throats in chorus

skin

            hydrated and humid, except that

sunburn

            that creep of regret after a day

            parading in the sun

            remember, now?

 

                     gentle, wakeful

 

                                   early morning cheery light

 

            oh,

 

summer, there is so much to be!

 

            why

 

sleep in?