Songs of Summer

Songs of Summer

By: Saranya Wallooppillai

 

it starts in the

heat of the night

when the crickets come

out to play their quartets

and the baritone bullfrogs

moan their grievances.

 

the thick cotton quilt

melts off the edge of

the bed frame, leaving

only a thin sheet stuck

like a sweaty second skin

to restless arms and legs.

 

a wave of awareness

sweeps me under, drowning

me in a sea of lazy summer

songs. the familiar plip plop

of a leaky faucet drips

down the back of my neck.

 

clambering out of the

salt soaked strait-jacket

cracked lips bleeding for

a drip drop of rusty blue

my feet burn across the

creaky sun-stained floors.

 

cold ceramic hold my little

oasis, like a salve to my

sun-crackled skin. and though

the clock chimes night, Lady

Sleep has retired for the evening

leaving me alone to hum the

songs of summer.