Monday, August 1, 2011

Dear Summer

I miss you already.
You are a hot, salty, sweaty mess right now; I love you.
I have to trade your free-spirited adventurous attitude for shoes and pencil shavings.
I only noticed one lightning bug this year.
There must have been more, but I'm a grown up.
I shouldn't forget to notice the magic....
You showed me a snake and armadillo.
I didn't feel the tickle of a lightning bug clasped between my palms.
You smelled like grass and hot pavement.
You were lazy and so was I.