Summer

With lashed lids squeezed closed and

freckles falling

into scrunchy nose wrinkles,

curled under stubby toes furrow further

into

deepening muddy puddles.

One courage gathering gasp

bated breath

and

then

the magic is high

thrilling

and

glistening

and glorious

in summer day heat

landing across strands

and foreheads

and down cheeks and

through fingers

over bellies.

The melody of childhood

squealing

and singing

and ringing

and carrying

over todos and concerns

and flashing screens

and complications of the extraordinary

trumped by the

brilliance of the

ordinary

of

sweet summertime

simplicity.