When the warm weather blows like tumbleweed
Across August and September,
And the black blanket of night is more eager
To cloak us all,
I’ll remember summer in the lingering pressure
Between my toes, my flip flop’s phantom finger
Gnawing, insistent at my instep.
Love this line:my flip flop’s phantom finger.
ReplyDeleteOhh, summer. I have lived in warm places so long I've forgotten how glorious the come and go of summer is. I love the smell of summer coming through a window screen, and the last days of summer when you know it's already a year away.
ReplyDeletelovely! :) thank you.
ReplyDelete