Fierce, Gentle Summer

Short and sweet

Just how the summer

Should be

Fresh berries

Stain

Lips and fingers

We lay on hot beach sand

Clothes smell like

Bonfire smoke

September is coming

Short and sweet,

Just how I like it

How it should be

I will miss you

When winter comes

But seasons always

End

---

I would

Rest in your lap

All summer

Kiss your neck,

I prayer,

Write our story until Semptember

And ask if it's the end,

We bathe in sunlight

In my dreams

And it feels

So good

On bare skin.

---

These two poems were written weeks apart. I could not entirely accurately say whether I was feeling the same thing when I wrote them both, however they are just begging to be paired together.

True summer to me is evenings in Pennsylvania when I was young, watching the sunset, and seeing bats and fireflies. There is a certain bittersweet to nostalgia to long, hot and humid days.