Resting beneath the
silken sky, white with veiling vapor,
I wished to return to summer.
I ached for the sea to murmur
its wisdom across the shore,
for my feet to leap at the touch
of flaxen sand and crystalline waves.
If only my eyes could again be scintillated
with the sun encapsulated ten times over
in my joyous gaze.
The invigoration of January’s gusts
cannot compare to the breath of
jubilant July, sweeping the fields
of Ashlawn in sighing waves.
My limbs would yield to the verdant tides.
Oh, to rest my head upon your chest,
to let my soul sleep and awaken
in the light you poured
down my nimble back.