I fell back into my childhood.
Sticky fingers, and sugar-

coated lips.
Hot dogs with chili,

sprinkled cupcakes, ice cream

melting, dripping down chins

and staining grubby tees.

Picnics and baseball—

Summertime in this City.
But, I’m crying, 

stinging,

lonely.
Because summer in this city

was never my time of year.

I like the cold, 

the rain,

and, when the sun rises early

bringing me into this Brand-New Day

I get a little bitter

at all things bright and warm.

But summer, it comes, invariably, 

unstoppable,

suffocating heat and sun-up 

’til way past bedtime.
And I don’t sleep easier,

or more comfortably,

in the summer. I toss,

and I turn, counting down days

’til fall.

Ninety degrees and rising.
The world changes around me—

I’m afraid and a little angry.
So, I curl up in my corner, 

with a book and with some coffee

and pretend it was never summer—

that the seasons don’t change at all.

All the happy people,

tanned and bleached and sun-dyed, 

can keep their distance from a cold 

heart like mine.
Enjoy the sun, Summer-timers, 

because fall is coming, 

as impossible to evade as the weather

is to predict.

And while you complain 

I’ll be dancing in the rain 

trying to channel something 

that Summertime took away.

05/15/2014