summertime, an ode

and before the last nights of summer subside

to stay warm some place else,

i sit down here to write this ode

to these long nights with you

that were so pure, so close, so calm

but will fleet

– and may already have.

when the sun was finally high and hot

and we far away from home

and all electronics mostly off

it was then that essence ebbed in.

we’d left the world out on the doorstep

of our tiny yellow tent

to swing in the hammock or sit in the grass

and take a breath as well.

And slowly, surely, it was then,

that she came seeping in

through the net surrounding us at night

and melting us into those sheets.

we awoke not brutally to eclectic sounds

but to birds welcoming the light

and sipped coffee long and silently

and went down to the sea.

we rarely stepped beneath a roof

and needed not its rigor

but stretched up toward the skies

and may have grown a little taller.

one time, you made those pannenkoeken

with apples, chocolates, jam,

and for the first time, then, alas,

nostalgia knocked on the door.

one year ago, after our first,

she came with the very same smell

and brought upon us fall so fast

that it tugged some, though barely, this round.

we talked lots, read more, and I prayed some, too,

with a filled and bursting heart

that times like this would last

with their echo, into wintertime.

so as the last warm days are upon

the lands and our skin

I drink it in, so rich, so clear,

the promises of youth.

They lie not in the distractions polluting

our senses all and always

but in the mindfulness of us

for each other and the now.

And so here I stop to step out once more

without these socks and coats

to look up at the stars above

and rest here

and lean

and stall…