Saturday, March 23, 2013


He adores summer, the color it brings,
the state of elation it connotes
and simply the rush of things that splash and splash like seas kissing the sand.
And the days will roll by of sunny-side ups in the morning
and iced tea to quench midday thirsts,
of thinning wardrobes and sun-kissed skin,
and pregnant days of idleness and tummies cinched to keep slim.
And summer love affairs will bloom and blossom like May buds
and stolen kisses under fresh summer rains.
He adores summer. He adores it.


  1. sometimes a piece of sun
    burned like a coin in my hand...

    - pablo neruda, clenched soul