The Sight Within the Summer.

The Sight Within the Summer

The smell of summer fills my lungs.  It is like

A night without stars-the sunrise is a gorgeous

Array of colors that perpetuates the sky.

The summer apples are golden in the sun,

And the sun is golden, and everything around it is

Golden, too.  The grass smells of sweet summer

Rain.  Rain is etched with dew.  This is the end of

August, but summer is still here-still standing.

There is a light at the end of this reach,

Where every color matches everything else,

And the rain falls smoothly into a waterfall of

Crisscross colors.  Nothing is mismatched.

The apples are ripe for the picking, and the wildflowers

Need to be picked, too.

A light surrounds everything-in the grass, in the trees,

In between the bright-spoken leaves.  The leaves

Are bright green, so bright you have to wear sunglasses

To see past them.

This is what I imagine in wintertime, when it is so cold

I have to have the heat on 24/7, and when I go out

I am encircled by the coldness that reaches out into

Everything I touch, everything I see.

So forgive me if I want to see a little bit of summer

In wintertime.