I Come Alive In The Summertime

I come alive in the summertime

As the heat blisters my weathered hands

And a pink tan sets on my cheeks

The light from late nightfall and early sunrise awakens a lightness in me


I come alive in the summertime

I take refuge in its freedom

Like the feeling of youth, responsibilities few

A deep hope thrives in mid-June


As the sun shifts and the heat waivers

I feel a hollowness creep in

Imagining the pin I would shove into time if only the Earth’s rotation would give


Could I hold it long enough for the brittle crust to warm

Or to send the salmon spawning

Hold wild fires off for August rain to drench the July hardened soil

Watch the young rams bear their oblong horns without the fear of cracking


Try as I might the pin is slipping

I know the end is soon


A crow in the ponderosa caws

He has seen the waning moon

Weeks before the glinting light had stirred me from my sleep

Disturbed and longing for dark I had turned a cold cheek skyward

Now I ache for the restless glow showering from overhead

For I come alive in the summertime, and I know the dwindling moon warns


The hills will redden and the air will crisp

The bony creek bed dry

Wings spread breast clenched the mallards soon take flight

Going south seeking warmth

They migrate, so will I


I meditate my wounds and I solemnly hang my head

Please remember me dear river, pards and friends alike

I’ll be back soon, the month of June will bring me back to life.


Ben Timm

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