Krushangi

17

Summer

The world is a split rainbow; the colors spilling out
like laughter held back too long, bathing me

with the warmth of a sunrise. The beating of the drum was
our heartbeat, the echoing of the chorus

our fuel, the squeals of laughter our air. Smiling,
I dug my bare feet into the apricot colored sand.

The pale yellow of the sunset, like sweet lemonade,
lingered in the sky for a moment, before it was replaced

by vibrant cerulean, the world a frenzy of colors.
A single trickle of warm brown, from my chocolate ice-cream cone

ran down my hand, and onto the cool water.
I flung some of that same endless blue

At my brother. He laughed,
and I copied. Everywhere I looked

there was a glorious outpour of sunshine. I was painted
by a scarlet brush made of joy, against a backdrop

of August skies and the distinctive
smell of sunscreen.

Summer had begun.