Summer Gate
Friday, May 27th, 2005Small white clouds were vaguely visible glyphs against the night sky. I sat on the red bench, with water and a phone. Purple flowers wreathed my shoulders…and their perfume caressed the cool air. Small bits of fluff drifted down around me, like warm snow. Seedlings.
That was last night.
Now it is blue and mostly bright. Buttercups stand out. My coffee is jet and jitter-inducing. “Smile Like You Mean It” is playing on my stereo. The Memorial Day weekend has almost begun; a gateway into the Summer.
I’m thinking of slow warm hours, freedom…and fun.
Seeds of better times.