This is the time when the sky12644786_590453281105799_3484082220945353022_n
burns, longing for the cooling
touch of ever greening trees,

and when the sweaty noonday sun pours
relentlessly into the streets, constrained
only by iced tea and oscillating fans.

This is the time when you and I
sing out love through the steady
rhythm of our blending voices

and when your body, next to mine,
is enough to temper the brightness,
to bring order to the sky.

* * *

If you are interested in the other poems in this series, here is “Winter” and here is “Spring.”