Somehow it is the last day of summer
and rain is falling on the roof
sweet slow soft,
as it's beginning it also is ending.
This week, for the first time,
two bouncy boys
will head to school together
They promise they will miss me,
but not their teachers, who live there.
The little girl
walks on tiptoes
around the table
and crawls on her belly
to catch balloons
delicious inflated moments
that disappear
before you know it.
The season was spent
plopping berries
launching arrows
skipping stones
chasing waves,
the sweetness
piercing
the water
and returning.
I visited gardens
taller than my head
where birds, bunnies, and me
find surprise, abundance
and we put it in a jar
of goldenness
to pour out,
lavishly, over cold things.
When this ice cream melts
cascading through my fingertips
I hope- for you-
to catch it;
to lap it,
from my hand.
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