Summer 

isn’t everything it used to be. 

eager countdowns in fifth grade classrooms that 

opened to prickly hot parking lots with 

yellow buses belching 

gas. 

make-believe 

in the cool shade of 

a swaying oaken grandmother 

while the sticky heat of the sun 

gathered in armpits and 

foreheads. 

impossibly long eternities 

running under 

an impossibly deep sky 

while chased by ivory clouds.

mosquito bites red and angry

submerged in chlorinated pools of 

gentle aquamarine.

Summers of elation turn to

longing 

at the edge of

seventeen.

as the haunting thought 

of stepping off

makes you hold onto summers eternity

tighter.

let the sun hang forever

in the cerulean sky

let the excitement of the last bell

retain its permanence .

let me always be shielded

in the shade of

the oak tree.