The summer of ‘22 —
A clearly punctuated gift of time.
A chance to remember life more vividly;
Come September, different from June.
Hopefully more refreshed or experienced, 
at least saltier. 

Endless magic at the Zoo at night.
Diving boards at the local pool, Sandlot style. 
Bonnie Raitt and flies in the kitchen.
Rising Appalachia in the redwoods.
“Live your life time” at home.
Dog days coalescing with covid fevers.
A treasure hunt birthday to start and 
an ice cream truck one to end. 

Despite lots of activity —
the summer activity list still hangs in dismay. 
Feeling like the days were up eaten by —
breakfast 
after breakfast snack
regular snack
lunch
whining 
afternoon “we’re sooo hungry” snack
“gross” dinner
Bedtime pb&j and bravery water 

I wonder if all summer dreams are meant to be fulfilled or 
rather,
to float wistfully around as unreachable promises;
seeding hope for next year or 
even the one after.