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currently missing summer
lately, when I think of summer, I think of
being sixteen and overgrown backyards with their old fences and rusted latches that were no match for graceless feet and hands.
warm evenings spent on balconies with our backs pressed to brick or iron, old wood and secrets splintering between us.
breathing in chlorine and lilacs under the rustling shade of a maple tree, and wondering how long you’d smell like home.
long drives and old forts and even older rivers, and the way our legs dangled off the edge of the locks, palms pressed to concrete instead of together.
roadside restaurants and souvenir shops and the way we shared sodas and honeysticks, tasting each other the only way we knew how.
the way you said, “this was fun” and “I’m glad we met,” and the way I asked, “will I see you again?” and all you could do was smile.
lately, when I think of summer, I think of you.
tracking mississippi mud along the richelieu river
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