Saturday, July 5, 2014

Summer

Summer is here

I can tell from mom's
olive-skinned arms as
she reaches for life
in the backyard garden.

Her sun hat droops
as she bends and 
her gloves are black
from dirt.

Summer is here

I can tell from
shiny classic cars
driving down the highway -
breathing once again.

Everything seems to breathe

Summer is here

I can tell from the
drunken shouting of
the couple next door
late at night.

They yell and yell,
and within an hour
it gets quiet except for
dreamy sighs of slumber.

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