Wet, fuzzy skins
Slipping over the
Cool metal, the
Sticky black handle.

Juicy sweet slices of
Pure summer, slipping through
My lips, perfect, more
Exquisite than any candy could be.

Like light that drips
Through the open kitchen window
With the sweat that drips
Down my neck, salty hot.

A sunset, pooling on the horizon
Cool descending, fluttering
A night bird to the earth
Softly covering the sugary happiness.

A thunderstorm, exploding
Releasing floodgates of
Delight, pounding on the
Roof, puddling in the yard.

Sprinkle, just a pinch, cinnamon
Mix it up with brown sugar
And sweet skies, afternoon tunes
Pour it in a crust of
Evening cool, cover in a doughy blanket
Put it in that deep heat of
July, leave for awhile and take out
Your perfect peach pie, summer in a pan.