Her Summer
To understand a tree
how it lives in the summer
fails in fall
dies in the winter
reborn in spring
An endless phoenix cycle
around and around
as seasons come and seasons go
summer the height of their year
This summer will last,
the five-year-old said
the leaves will not go brown
nor crackle underfoot
they will not fall from the branches
like wispy little martyrs
the glossy green growing
shivering, frail, weak.
This summer will be different,
the six-year-old proclaims
The summer will last
The grass would stay warm
the sunshine would be perfect
In between the pale pink blossoms
and nature's own fireworks
everything was green
And yet despite the dreams
summer would end
taking away the cartwheels in the warm grass
and the carefree laughter in the treetops
Autumn would come
with reds and golds
browns and orange
pulling down the green curtain of life
Then, too soon,
snow would come in a flurry
coating the trees and the dead gray ground
shining painfully in the sunlight
But each frozen branch would prevail
push through and grow blossoms
of pink and white
delicate as glass
So the cycle came and went
summer breezes
fall storms
winter snow
spring flowers
Now the six year old is old
too old to run in the green
hear the chirps of the evening crickets
laughter, clear as sliver bells
But she had something better now
a husband so perfect and true
With green eyes the color of leaves
and deep brown hair like fertile soil
And his laugh
reminded her of sunshine
bursting through a cloak of emeralds
finding the child beneath
He was like summer.
Her summer.
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