Summer started out with packing
up and goodbyes,
yearbook signed with 'miss you's,
boxes in the car as we drive away,
escaping that little town
on that sunny day in June.
Six hours later, we're laying by a pool
forgetting all those car rides,
and days in the park.
July arrived with catching bullfrogs
and fireworks on the lake,
rowboats and birthday presents,
bachelorette parties and videos,
wedding days with raindrops before
and wild flowers
behind my ear and in my hair,
candles in the pool,
and the night ends
twenty-seven past two.
The morning light brings it all,
chase away the dreams,
and red light, green light,
it won't stop there
before driving away
at three in the morning,
and then to that dreaded place,
come as you are,
and everything has left me behind,
no more California,
no more watching the waves roll in.
Moving in to one more home,
filled with boxes,
as we forget our promises
and that phone rings,
with news that brings tears,
bitter like salt,
but we made it with time to spare,
if only we didn't need solace
during just another day of summer.