starts off slow
with cocktails, and solitary rhythms,
builds in beauty while her flora comes alive.
The not-so-young awake,
brilliant anatomy in blossom.
We flop through summer paradise
with cold drinks, slippery with condensation.
Tan and sizzle your cozy skin
bathed in sunlit Saturday afternoons.
Come now, livid colored America,
teach that girl to tingle!
In the balmy, restless twilight,
furiously twitching fans in our fingers,
we watch skies filled with the rage of violent thunderstorms.
Lightning shots of reprimand,
heated moments and harsh rains
over secret exhilaration,
seem to forget ancient zeal.
We fall to sleep,
exhausted, red and weather-beaten
in the wetted world.
And in the ante meridiem meantime,
the tempest moves to showers, to sprinkles,
damp moths, and zephyrs.
At our solar peregrination's conclusion,
the dew collects on the blades of grass.
The fahrenheit declines
in contrast with our grudging reflections
and forgiveness for her recklessness
as our eyes adjust to the opening of the dawn.
Soon the world will turn towards the quieter dark
where we'll slowly grow to miss
the summer's passionate fervor.
