Grass, dewy
with the breath of the earth
that has not cooled since yesterday.
Crunchy shells cling to bark—
ghosts of creatures that screamed
their way out of skin.
Trees hum with life,
iridescent wings vibrating
against the weight of the world.
Fireflies flash like tiny saints.
Fire pits blaze once the sun
has loosened its grip on the fields.
The wind remembers something.
Children shriek in sprinklers.
Fools splash.
And summer holds us in her sticky, golden palms
just a little longer.


