daynabhattiroberts.blog

monday spent sandy and swallowed by the icy mouth of lake michigan 

tuesday in the belly of the rolling prairies of a place called shirland with burning man alumni and wooden fishermen in snoopy shirts and softball players 

the opening door of summer always leads me into others’ footsteps and still i avoid packing my suitcase as if it’s jaw would unhinge and i’d be sucked in, never to find that summer freedom of anti-introspection again

even as summer is where i run to 

oh, but even the good i put off, and even summer must deal with my capriciousness and 

even birds hesitate before getting into that icy water 

even birds fly away from that thick summer storm brewing over those flower fields we pricked our polished fingers to keep a bit of

i tuck my wants into my pocket like promises along with those petals

it is a lie 

summer cannot put off wanting forever, but oh, it will try 

and those flowers will die, but oh, they’ll try to live 

i’ll try to live, too, maybe, like those birds loud and persistent in their wails the mornings i just want to sleep 

maybe they are crying to live, too 

even the birds ask the sky for a reason