Excerpts Week

For those of us here in central Florida, where the temps reached into the 80’s today, this isn’t so far away. For those of you still suffering from frostbite and chilblains, maybe this will give you hope that summer will come again. 🙂

The Sound of Dreams Coming True

Side by side,
They recline,
Deckchair wood
Warm against their
Shoulders.
Eyes closed,
Almost dozing in
Late afternoon shade,
The humid sounds of August
Sluicing over them
Like warm water
On even warmer skin.
Old Summer is singing.

Listen, he says,
Do you hear it?
Um-hmm, she answers,
As a bird pours
Liquid notes into the
Emerald and ochre of the garden.
What is that, he asks.
It’s the cardinal, Love,
Calling his mate.
They’ve built a nest in
The mock-orange,
This year.
Ah.

Listen, he says again,
As a soft hum
Grows around them,
Swelling into a
Chirring rhythm,
Which fills the air with
A noise as familiar
As summer, itself.
What is that, he asks.
Katydids, she says,
Reaching for his hand,
They’re singing songs of
Love just for us.
Ah.

Listen, she says,
Kissing his fingers,
As a little girl laughs,
Chasing fireflies
With her big brother.
Do you hear it, Love?
Do you hear the sound of
Dreams coming true?
I hear our children,
Playing late on a summer’s eve,
He says, turning to
Look at her soft smile.
Yes, she replies . . .
Exactly.
Ah.