I will lie in the grass and count the stars in the summer sky.
I will smell the rich earth and juniper bushes.
I will drink in all that is fine.
Time will stretch as the days grow longer,
And life will slow as the temperatures rise.
Southern summer, Indian summer, Dog Days
There was a tree in the northwest corner.
A mimosa with seed blossoms as pink as the house.
That sweet smell still lingers.
My youth stretched long on its low trunk,
And hung up side down where it was high
I was free and didn’t know it.
The lightening bugs danced like fairies in the bushes,
or earthbound stars on the yard.
I always let them go.
When the sun peeked over the mountain
I would rise, and I will again-
With dew on my face and grass in my hair.