lemonade

white picket fence

one way in and one way out

worn wood, homegrown stand

the smile in the crowd

and the danger

of taking things slow,

being too afraid to lose you.

i'd like to think

as you forget everything about this small town

you won't forget me.

whether it's cashmere or linen

it all covers skin that only comes from here.

winds lead us into the meadows

and we dance with the sun

wearing it out, glowing to the ground

sipping lemonade

from lemons of life

while sun rays help us burn into memories

the last summer of us