The certain slow of summer…

DSC09516editededitedIdling down now,
I’m pulling off onto summertime’s backroads
like the ladybug pausing on my shoelace
while garden chimes dangle their songs on the breeze
and my soul feels again the soft hum of an old classroom fan
ticking off the last long moments
until I could pull off my shoes for the season

and climb barefoot up my favorite tree,
peach in hand,
not quite juicy yet
but peach enough in June
to nibble away the fuzz,
savor the tart flesh
and save the pit for some shenanigans
when the time turned ripe
to drop it down below.

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I loved those times high up in the trees
and how well their branches kept my secrets,
held my reveries,
and let the certain slow of summer unfold.

It’s the slow I remember the sweetest
and the season still sings me home
to that gentler rhythm
and somehow there comes an ease
and I stop flapping so hard
and soar a little more
instead.

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My garden is a riot of color now,
each day a new blossom,
and it’s time to turn up the quiet,
and let my heart putter along barefoot,
summertime slow,
drifting on a warm easy song.

“Summertime and livin’ is easy”
-George and Ira Gershwin