summer

There's this magical sense of possibility that stretches like a bridge between June and August. A sense that anything can happen.

Zoe's mom liked to send silly postcards that made her laugh, but they usually dwindled as the summer wore on.

Just to love! She did not ask to be loved. It was rapture enough just to sit there beside him in silence, alone in the summer night in the white splendor of moonshine, with the wind blowing down on them out of the pine woods.

summer is in me__louds and lakes of shadows, rippling under the trees

If you're stuck you could always double up with me at my place. It's the size of a postage stamp, but the roses are the size of poodles. So it sort of evens out." -Austin

I know,' I said, thinking about the trip my mother had wanted me to take, and the trip we'd ended up taking, and how much better ours had been.

In June we picked the clover,And sea-shells in July:There was no silence at the door,No word from the sky.A hand came out of AugustAnd flicked his life away:We had not time to bargain, mope,Moralize, or pray.

After all, we were young. We were fourteen and fifteen, scornful of childhood, remote from the world of stern and ludicrous adults. We were bored, we were restless, we longed to be seized by any whim or passion and follow it to the farthest reaches of our natures. We wanted to live _ to die _ to burst into flame _ to be transformed into angels or explosions. Only the mundane offended us, as if we secretly feared it was our destiny . By late afternoon our muscles ached, our eyelids grew heavy with obscure desires. And so we dreamed and did nothing, for what was there to do, played ping-pong and went to the beach, loafed in backyards, slept late into the morning _ and always we craved adventures so extreme we could never imagine them. In the long dusks of summer we walked the suburban streets through scents of maple and cut grass, waiting for something to happen.

A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.

Summer vacation is about watermelons, shaved ice, Popsicles, summer festivals with fireworks, and the ocean!!! That's what summer has been about for elementary school kids since the dawn of time! But no, you're worried about UV rays!""Oh my."-I don't think they had elementary school at the dawn of time-

Her legs swing complete afternoons away.

It was a generation growing in its disillusionment about the deepening recession and the backroom handshakes and greedy deals for private little pots of gold that created the largest financial meltdown since the Great Depression. As heirs to the throne, we all knew, of course, how bad the economy was, and our dreams, the ones we were told were all right to dream, were teetering gradually toward disintegration. However, on that night, everyone seemed physically at ease and exempt from life__ worries with final exams over and bar class a distant dream with a week before the first lecture, and as I looked around at the jubilant faces and loud voices, if you listened carefully enough you could almost hear the culmination of three years in the breath of the night gasp in an exultant sigh as if to say, __aw school was over at last!

Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.

From Summer's EndWhat we have is enough. It's more than we consciously realized.

Last summer had meant lots of Sam Adams Summer Ale by herself on hot weekend days when it seemed like just her and the Dominican Day parade.

In front of us, the ocean stretched for eternity. Around us, reggae mussy floated through the air. In our drying clothes and still-damp hair, we ate junk food and talked.At some point we finished and went for a long walk in the sand. We picked up shells, laughed, and talked. Before I knew it, the sun was going down and we went back to the van. We lay side by side, stretched out on the blanket. When the sun dropped completely below the horizon, we let the moon illuminate us.

Autumn stomps around outside the houselike an annoying little sister, tappingon all the shutters, kicking up the pilesof leaves you rake, pretending to howllike a wolf. But I'm glad she's here,so we can cuss at Summer together,pretending we don't even remember her name.

Summer's lease hath all too short a date.