from the other side of summer

[dragonflyaway]

the taste of new love-
the sugary-sweet heaviness of a
damp summer evening
upon the tongue, filling the senses.
it is
a finely tuned cello, played with a
just-rehaired bow;
a polished but not yet
perfected movement of a
mozart concerto;
andante.
holly berries crushed in the first
footprint of a
new snow;
the melodious confusion of the first
three and a half seconds of a
symphony tuning;
the breathy moment of thickness in the
air after a finale and just before the
thunder of applause;
the seconds of calm between
lighting and thunder;
quiet.
the jarring taste of the first
bite of raspberry pie;
the first
rain of spring;
the feeling of road traveling under you and
out the back of the car into the rearview mirror and
pushing you forward;
the split second before the sun meets the horizon and
appears and dawn arrives;
morning.
it is
sitting down at an old piano and sight-reading a new
piece of sheet music, only to find
it is a tune you once knew and your fingers still do;
the moment of transition
between forget and remember;
worn flip flops that mold to your
feet and make you feel home;
cheerios and milk at midnight;
homecoming.
it is
today, it is
a fresh breath of realness, it is
ginger tea with peanut butter, it is
an only.