Forget me not, warm air;
A golden streak in the sky.
Forget me, frozen cheeks,
as my breath floats high.
Remember me, bright sun,
when you travel farther south.
Remember me not, bleak grayness;
these days run long and dark.
For when you return, sweet summer,
I reveal in every day you were missed.
For when you leave, cold winter,
I won’t mourn your departure.
S
un peaking through the blades of grass and dancing on the dandelions delicate seeds,
secretly wishing their own little wish to be whisked away to your little hands.
Warm nights spent filled with late evening rays and brilliant mornings crowning each memory
with more heat than can be felt in the dog days of the Sweetest Summertime.
Light and warmth is what makes it summertime, but family is what makes it sweet. We’ve already begun our summer of memories, so instead of pining with anticipation, I’ll say that I am eager to make more!
