September. Six o´clock.
I can hear the neighbours talking and birds singing.
Outside in the orange air there is a familiar smell, and it moves me to dance.
It made me so happy thinking of summer evenings to come (some with you, too).
Now, with a little bit of encouragement and care, tomatoes grow, much like my love for you.
Summer.
Sunset.
Embrace it.
It feels surreal. All a dream. Time passing and smiles coming and going.
Coming. Going.
But why not staying? I dream of staying still. Poised in the golden light of the evening, forever.
What a delicate feeling. So long to grow into this and so quickly to leave it forever.
Forever. Is it possible, or just some idea dreamed up by a poet who thought too much.
I want to stay in this moment. Tomatoes. Sunlight. Distant conversation.
Dancing. Soft grass. Bare feet.
First love. Forever love.
So bittersweet is summer.
So simple are wishes this season.
To feel like a poet by simply encountering an eloquent evening.
To be a poet by speaking the words that summer brings.
To live forever in a moment, to not feel sorrow for the rest of life you would miss.
To be everlasting. To be ever-dancing. To be ever-young.
Summer.
A few moments of daydreaming,
and it's already gone.