those summers

those
were real summers.

slow drawl of time.

not like now.
is anything like now
that was?

how we stayed up, lying on
the picnic table

at night.

not yet lovers, just friends.
twelve and thirteen.

afraid to touch hands.

those summers. those sweet
melon
summers.

of falling stars.
black cherries in the trees.

the oasis
of the pool, the sun
in our hair.

glorious and free, yet to
know

what a broken heart was.
still
open
to love, to possibility.