wind scented in freedom

be who you are relieved

of constraints created by

eight solid hours of school

inevitable question:

what are you going to do

this summer? the answers

too numerous to elaborate

never liked summer clothes

winter suits me better

its jewel tones and airs

of mysterious, chilly

beauty like the air before

snow starts to fall...

but summer is a pastel

boring reality top and shorts

that's all, no playfulness

landlocked with no beach

make do with the manmade lake

just a few miles out of town

or visit the two city pools

with screaming children

elbowing each other in line

for vending machines, waterslide

dive inside the coolness

that is the library, a ghost town

populated by books and curiosity

read the hours away

giving time with annoying

houseguests the slip

sipping sodas at the corner

convenience store, getting

in the car just to say you went

somewhere, anywhere

even just for ice cream

or to chase a stranger's kite

as obscure oldies blast

away on the car stereo

a summer job at the office

amid overdone air conditioning

and its nice homey office smells

of carbon paper and coffee grounds

my feet feeling clever in new

high heeled sandal mules

sweat trickling down my brow

after a hot trek to get the mail

mingling with face powder as it drips

the bag for quiet office days

filled with magazines, notebooks

pens and, in short, possibility

interesting elective classes

meeting people with common interests

where have they been hiding

these other two semesters?

Mondays become sheer delight

dreading August in May

yearning for it in July

it was brought most near

by rare cool dreamy days

inside thunderstorms and mist

for once again, without fail

order was around the corner