This is Summer.
It's intertwined fingers and shared lemonade,
The weeds and wildflowers of an impromptu bouquet.
And showers of rain on the most cloudless day.
It's fingers stained purple from blackberry treats,
And lips kissed the same color, both sour and sweet.
It's sharing your headphones; dancing to the beat.
It's talking past midnight, with nary a care,
Smelling a hint of the sea in the air.
It's realizing that you do have time to spare.
It's ice cream that melts and drips down your arm.
It's old movie marathons, full of wit, grace, and charm.
It's wading in fountains when it gets too warm.
This is Summer.
