A Summer Place

Waves caress the shore, gentle but unrelenting.

An American flag, steered by the breeze, sounds a soft crack in protest,
Eventual submission inevitable

A front porch swing, too, is encouraged by the wind,
Its creaky cadence crying out for appreciation.

The wind find me.

Existing in a world with the wind alone, it barely touches me.
My head floats back in response.

Vulnerable, the wind doesn't take advantage.
My hair, singularly manipulated, savors the attentive embrace.

Then, gone.

Swift in coming, swift in going,
It was gone.

The vibration of locusts, a lawn mower's steady hum;
Smells of a nearby grill, fresh-cut grass, moisture off the lake;
All incite vivid memories of summers past.

Sounds and smells of summer, carried by the wind
Seem to know I need them to feel complete.

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