Isabel

17

why cry?

it's fall, and in the school hallways
hundreds of familiar strangers look
past me, and push me to the side...
i miss my savior, summer
because every time,
she walked by my side
during those warm months
on the dirt path by the lake

my savior, summer
was with me upstate
where i smiled at everyone and
where the kids in their wooden bunks
slept fluttery-eyed
under unpolluted starry skies,
and summer, my savoir
slept always near my side

and sometimes, bent over textbooks
in my room where i can't see any stars
i wish that i could run away
but i remember summer, and i smile

because, summer, she introduced me
to a boy that told me not to run
but rather that life was a shiny blue lake
that should be rowed and swam
a boy, whose mint kisses
melt my worries into smiles

summer, she taught me only to cry
when saying goodbye
of course, sometimes i still cry
but my summer savior reassures me
that even in the cold months
under the dripping mascara
and under the winter coat
and under the pale skin
that the residual warmth of summer
lives as a summer sun in my soul

and in the crinkly-eyed smile of my best friend
and when i run my hand through
that summer boy's soft black hair
and in the petals of a pesky yellow wildflower
growing in the cracks of the pavement
and in the stars, even with the smog