Sweet light of summer days, how I love you. Sun and shade of leaves. You are the light of endless afternoons, a dream, a memory.
You are the days of the orange daylilies, the nights of flickering fireflies. You are the the ice in tall glasses. You are the ice cream, melting, and the children with the ice cream, dripping.
You are the green of summer gardens. You are the smell of fresh-cut grass. You are cloudless blue.
You are ripe tomatoes, warm in the sun. You are a thousand recipes for zucchini, eggplant and green beans. You are salads. You are raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, the juice of ripe plums dripping. You are peaches and nectarines. Watermelons! Cherries. You are apple pies.
You are barefoot on bare wood floors. You are perfect days.
You are sunglasses, sundresses, sandals. T-shirts, cargo shorts, sneakers.
You are lemonade, iced-tea, a cold beer. You are cooler by the Lake.
You are baseball--little-league games, minor-league affiliates, amateur softball leagues, major league ball parks.
You are street fairs and county fairs. You are music festivals, and movies under the stars.
You are nights too hot to sleep. You are music in dimly-lit bars. You are hot bodies touching, slick-wet skin. You are summer love. You are alive in my heart forever. You come and go, like clouds.
Summer, my love, you are the best. You are lightning, and fireflies, dancing in the dark.
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