Summer’s Greetings
Much too fast or way too slow
The felt sense of warm days I know
Family time and travel soon
My skull and skin with shrinking room
Outcomes stick in salty air
My stuff piled here as thoughts fly there
I’m good to go or not enough
This summer’s self-talk-shit gets tough
Packing and unpacking fears
Shared space distorting in the heat
With shoulders bare I carry effort
My shadow self in sunny presence
Whether I burn, or pale, or peel
The rub is that it’s up to me
-a.r.
Painting: Young Woman on the Beach By Edvard Munch
This is an edit of a previous poem called “Seasons Greetings.” That one was written in a colder season, but the shit I carry with me somehow stays the same.
sometimesihatemycat 
Indeed it is.
😌