solstice finds me arranging two dozen roses in a crystal vase, thinking
about planting succulents string of banana string of pearl evokes elegance I imagine potted in clay painted gray-white on mantle bringing greenlife to autumn, winter seasons anticipated in order to embrace sixty sultry summer days
with nostalgia, implying humid patience necessary to endure blazing yellow hours melting bones into sidewalks too hot for bare feet yet shoes discarded months  before afternoons bleed between watermelon seeds spit in careless exhaustion, chased by red wine from Mason jars without lids, no matter as long
as lightning bugs extravagant distract attention to detail, marring perfection
found in dandelions pursuing through wide expanse of lawn cut perfume inhaled
as anticipation for bullfrogs croaking twilight warnings and birdsong ringing morning early before sprinklers run in afternoons as much as for children
as the lawns and I yearn for charcoal grills inviting neighbors offering solace
in potato salad, playing music too loud any other time except these months children are free from desks, diving instead into chlorine pools turning tips of blonde hair green while turning faces up to sun to celebrate