Gliding my finger over the cracked kitchen tile
Kettle, king of limescale
Waiting and forgetting
One foot in-front of the other
Travel like a skipping rock
The back of my neck burning
Singing hairs of fever
Fluttering spine cremating
ashes spilling out of my ears.
It’s a citrus sun on a winter day
Frosted fence melting away in an animated motion,
Like butter over a pan
Bubbles on a thorn bush.

Spring comes
And I find myself fond of fall.
Summer dawns
And I admire more winter.
Fall arrives
And I cherish spring newly.
Winter blossoms
And I appreciate summer more clearly.

There is a beauty
in summer
in the warm winds
caressing your hair

There is a beauty
in sunshine

In endless days
slumbering by
reading Derek Walcott
and Charles Baudelaire.

There is a happiness
in summer
of bright skies
and ice cream parlors.

of fond memories
and fonder friends

For the joys of summer
are never truly forgotten.

As the days fold 
Into chill-filled air,
The watermelon dayz
They seem long gone.
Even with the degrees
Still in the moderate thirties,
I long for those hot, stuffy days
Where we twirled our towels
On our heads and smiled, seed-filled,
And none could distinguish where
Sweet and drippy watermelon grins
Started, and the sweat long ended.

The kite's high.
I give it more string.
I give it
All the string.
It takes off
And flies away
And lands
Who knows where?
Goodbye!

wet sand squelches between my toes
hot rays of sunshine beat against my skin
waves ripples in the lake
ice cream drips from the cone onto my hand
tank tops and shorts and swimsuits
sweet lemonade as the ice cubes clink in the glass
school's out and relaxing's in
walking through the cool forest
a relief from the sweltering sun
diving into the pool
and splashing your friends
refreshing breeze as the sun sets

Every day on this train station,
I stand and wait for confirmation.
She's standing on the other side,
and lets her hair out in a glide.

Shadows spilling on the platform,
wind is blowing in my face.
Number 23 incoming,
she is getting on the train.

And as I stand on this train station,
she turns around in confirmation.
The train doors close, I wave goodbye.
We'll see each other in no time.

The air feels nice, the station – empty,
next train is scheduled, one of many.
A windy summer afternoon,
it's cool, it's quiet, it goes too soon.

I sat upon a fashioned stump
Where birds and bugs all ducked and dived;
Stuck on the stump before a ****
And wondering which to hide.

A smear of veg before me spreads
As far as the mind can see;
And dazzling flowers all nod their heads,
And all of them smile at me.

Then the birds, the birds all sing their song,
And the rest can buzz and dance along,
So I know that really it can’t be long
‘Till everything’s smiling at me.

But the buzz and the song -
Oh, where had they gone?
And those flowers -
How they smiled at me!