Summer,
a rhythm along
the ****** walk
and beneath
my shoes,
leaves in between,
dry, brown, or green,
crackling,
crunching,
singing the hymn
of this wicked heat.
Shadowed paths,
arching trees,
a chorus of relief,
sigh.
A shower of leaves,
Summer,
a season to live.
A story told
with a handful
of drinks,
a wisp of air,
and a sheet
of faded clouds.
No one’s sad and
no one’s left behind.
The crash of waves,
shores awash,
footprints on the sand,
and even more are stars
up above.
Pillows on our backs,
my head on your shoulders,
sometimes reversed.
Summer,
a memory that lasts.
Summer,
a scene played
by you and me,
under these trees,
above this ****** walk,
showered by
falling summer leaves
and yes,
summer leaves,
then rains come pouring down…
Summer,
a canvas colored
by nature’s beauty,
sunkissed,
orange, yellow;
the summer’s hue.
your laughs,
your words;
my summer is you.
I miss you.
I miss you.