there’s a certain feeling that hits in summer,
when the weather turns hot, and the days spread long
I think of when I was small—how the day started slowly,
calmly laying betwixt cool sheets
listening to the box fan, watching my cat stretch in the morning sun—
time laid before me, and rose in intensity like the heat of the day
add a little pool time, and it’s heaven
the smell of chlorine and I’m at the watering hole with childhood friends
I can hear the reverberation of the diving board, feel the sting of the chemicals from the water—and the warmth of the sun as it dries my wet skin
the late afternoon sunlight let us know it was time to wrap it up,
a clink of a quarter in the payphone later, and someone was on the way to pick us up
the warm concrete of the flagpole stoop as we wait,
so comforting after hours in the cool water
the towels would get hung in the basement,
with its earthy scent and cool air
upstairs the quiet drone of the ballgame
dozing until dinner, feeling summertime spent
the sagacious bee 