Jillian

16

Anatomy of a Summer Child

I washed June out of my tresses,
And with it flowed
The pealing of a school bell,
A lonely cricket's lullaby,
And a firefly's lantern guiding me home.
July branded its name beneath my skin
As the sun caressed me with its fiery fingers
And paint was splattered in the sky
By a vengeful artist
Who matched their work with the explosions.
August tied itself into my toes
As they tasted the minty complexion of the grass
Or felt the waves kissing them
Before the sand clung to them
And ordered the waves away.
No matter how ferociously the mouth of winter may bite,
I will still feel summer in my toes or hair
And remember.