All The Good Sun

The rain stopped, so I dragged to the porch
the chair we plopped down in when spring was popping

curled my legs up to listen to the resilient bugs
ones left now that all the good sun has south run

to you in your bikini and me with my tanned feet
to you by the river and me in your swimming

to you with the top down and me naked running
to you in the tall grass and me in the weeds.

Now, onto this harvest, this bounty, spirits and feast,
thanking you for summer with winter impeding.

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A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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