The breeze tastes sweet and warmof sunof ripe fruitand of grassIt ruffles my hair andplasters my sweat-wet shirt on my skin

It blows doors shutand wafts in windows to cool hot pies andfill empty spaces

In the gentle lull of the windtrees creak and shiver,fresh cut grass istossed onto the walkand the clouds are pushedlike cotton-ball puffsacross a blue-glass sky

At night the wind carriesfireflies on its wingsand sweet chirping songs of cricketsand frogs

When the breeze stops playingwith my hairor creaking the loose gateand beginschafing my skin andredding my nose and cheeksmaking breath visible

You know the summer wind has leftBut you remember its playful soul