my backyard smelled like fresh cut grass
on my porch was a beehive
it buzzed as bright as yellow sun
but my father was god and he took care of us
in the front was a tree
where we played games of baseball cards and hide 'n' seek
down by the lake was a man
this man was named summer
he wore on his sleeve a grinning shadow of new day sunshine
as girls in pretty pink sweaters
dance on the edge of his finder tips
he would spin us tales from his days since past
I cut myself on roses I picked for the girl next door
my red smeared palms dripped raspberry colored droplets
upon pearl white bathroom floors
cleaned up before mother noticed the stains
open window breezes breath ghosts across sweaty upper lips
and in the streets
people with dilated eyes
stare down the changing colors of spring
and here I am ten years later
still amazed about how we once played like dinosaurs
in the light I saw her
waring a summer dress of blisters
lucidly daydreaming of dusk
she dances on orange bathed hilltops
with her lover of a thousand broken hymns
singing ring around the rosy to the people of crumbling ashes
and hidden behind smiles are razor sharp teeth
still waiting to find me there
but here we are still in spring
and the flowers have yet to bloom