life · poetry

Summer in the North

Every year, I find myself surprised
when summer comes around.
It’s silly, I’m smarter than that
but honestly part of me
doesn’t believe it will happen.

I forget what warmth feels like.
Until one day, the air is warm
and the spring shoots forth
waking the Earth once more.

I pack away the sweaters
pull our dresses out
and smell summer arrive
as lilacs bloom.

My bones remember the warmth
spreading across the land
and I remember the powers
of a thunderstorm.

Riding in on the night’s wind
fading the humidity away
that smoldered the day
the force
that brews the storms I love
keeps the land lush
and the waters churning.

Nevertheless, the rains leave pools
hatching swarms of Mosquitoes
that love me.
They pick me out amongst the crowd
in a ratio ten to one.
I’m extremely tasty to them.

Even so, I wouldn’t change a summer
in the north for anything.

7/15

care for a reading

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