Made by Hand

summer skin [final?]

 My bro, cousin Gary, me and Ilya at the Lake, Michigan, 1979.

My bro, cousin Gary, me and Ilya at the Lake, Michigan, 1979.

summer skin

 

Big bugs like matchbox cars

Flutter and click in the shadows

cracking pale blue

chest deep thunder

full and soft

warm summer rain. 


Getting soaked thru cotton 

Rivulets on summer skin, 

tilting your head back, eyes closed, 

You open your mouth and let the rain 

Land on your unfurled 

and pointed tongue. 

The drops prick like wet darts 

 

but damn it felt good. 

What is that feeling like really?

 

Wet hair and lips, arms and legs. 

A little cooler now that the suns gone

You look towards home

Bending down to take off your soaked 

Socks and shoes, barefoot now

You sink just a little. Blades of grass

Slip and tickle between you toes.

 

The rain eases and the sun shimmers 

green and gold as it sets over the hill. 

A warm wind chases the sunset

it brushes your hair and skin

Mama calls from the driveway

Inside there’s big brother, warm food, TV.


Fireflies and tractors, car crashes playing chicken.

We’d pick up cans and glass on the side of the road.

A quarter a can. Time reached out forever.

What was that like? Back then when it rained

In summer.

Like you are alive and it would never end.