summer skin [final?]
My bro, cousin Gary, me and Ilya at the Lake, Michigan, 1979.
summer skin
Big bugs like matchbox cars
Flutter and click in the shadows
cracking pale blue
chest deep thunder
full and soft
warm summer rain.
Getting soaked thru cotton
Rivulets on summer skin,
tilting your head back, eyes closed,
You open your mouth and let the rain
Land on your unfurled
and pointed tongue.
The drops prick like wet darts
but damn it felt good.
What is that feeling like really?
Wet hair and lips, arms and legs.
A little cooler now that the suns gone
You look towards home
Bending down to take off your soaked
Socks and shoes, barefoot now
You sink just a little. Blades of grass
Slip and tickle between you toes.
The rain eases and the sun shimmers
green and gold as it sets over the hill.
A warm wind chases the sunset
it brushes your hair and skin
Mama calls from the driveway
Inside there’s big brother, warm food, TV.
Fireflies and tractors, car crashes playing chicken.
We’d pick up cans and glass on the side of the road.
A quarter a can. Time reached out forever.
What was that like? Back then when it rained
In summer.
Like you are alive and it would never end.