Summer

(this poem thing was partially inspired by 100 Days of Sunlight by Abbie Emmons and by working outside all summer. I have no idea what it means. Enjoy!)

Summer is so many things not expected. 

It is the splash of cold water on a cloudy morning before the heat kicks in.
It is the warmth of sunlight’s remnants on a bright yellow book left on a chair, making it seems like the cover-flowers are blooming. 
It is hoodies over bathing suits when it’s too cold in the shade without them. 

It’s listening to age-old songs while floating in a near-empty pool, laughing, leaving you wondering if this is what they said being a teenager would be like. 
It’s tearing over the pool deck to be the first person down the newly-opened slide (that closes the next day, as nothing good can stay).
It is laughter and complaining, companionship and rivalry. It is so many things and yet all of them at once. 
Iced coffee tastes so much better under the sun, stretched out on the concrete, taking in the warmth. 

The comfort quiets the soul. 

It’s the tingle of an ice cold can of coke, freezing in your palm as you look out over a summer camp field, the soccer players’ shadows growing long in the late evening twilight. 
You’re not sure if it’s crickets or frogs singing in the woods. 

Summer is sunlight, it is yellow and shining. It warms everything it touches, may it be good and kiss your face with freckles and brush over sun coloured book covers. 
Sometimes the sting of the hot counter singes your hand, ice melts so fast if left unattended, all unbearable and all too much. Everything all at once. 

What do you do with summer like that? 

Rise.

~ Of Stardust Veins

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