Oh, Summer, what can I say …

to make you

stay…?

summer3

potomaccreek7

summer1

Please —
I’ll just
bed down
here
in your
gold light,
your green
shade,
and press
my face
against 
the wild things
you’ve grown–
grass-blade,
fern-frond,
moss-wet
stone.

Let me fall
face-first
into your
blue pool,
wrap myself
in the net
of sun
that shivers
and sways
at river bottom.

Let me steal
the kayak
and slide out
to deep water–
water flat
as glass,
so that
the sunset
catches fire
in the river —

and I am racing —
sparks flicking
from the paddle —
hoping, almost,
to turn
myself
into flame —
and burn —
burn alive —
through frost,
through snow,
through that
dark night
called February …

Oh, Summer:

Just lie down with me here. ❤

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