Poets logo

Summer Time

by Rebecca Hansen about a year ago in nature poetry
Report Story

Unlike molasses, time runs slow when hot.

Original photo by author

I’m lying on the floor; if I hold still,

Perfectly still, I will not be too warm.

Bug carcasses litter the windowsill;

The screen lets in the buzzing of the swarm.

Powdered iced tea, or homemade lemonade,

With ice (the condensation drips and runs).

Late evenings, cloying smell of jasmine laid,

The fireflies rise blinking from the lawns.

Sharp chlorine, warm hose water, sand in toes,

Slow-flowing creeks and rivers, crisp brown hills.

Lightning and thunder clap, warm water blows,

And green corn rises from neat-furrowed fields.

Summer is always different, yet the same

As nature plays her yearly waiting game.

nature poetry

About the author

Rebecca Hansen

Putting words down in writing makes me feel alive. What do I write about? Yes. Also that. I like to think that my randomness is charming.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.