nearly summer...

Journey Within II <span class=
Journey Within II
Megan Aroon Duncanson

last night we slept with the windows open.

we woke up to the sound of birds chirping.

the windows rolled down in my car didn't begin to cool me.

the basketball thumped and the children's voices hollered outside our windows until mom yelled at them to come in, clean up, and get ready for bed.

i could have mistaken today for a day in early june. it seems omaha skipped spring and jumped straight to summer.

but after this last winter, i will welcome every bit of summer.

the humidity, the hot wind, the blazing sun. the trips to the swimming pool, and cooling off inside the theater at the big summer blockbusters. the barbecues, the watermelon, the sweet corn bought from the corner vendors. the long walks outside, and the bike rides drenched in sweat. the trips to the golf range, and matthew laughing at me whiffing a hundred times. washing the car outside, and the smell of fresh cut grass. the sun, and the color, and the warmth. the flowers, and the trees, and the long days and bright nights. camping, and campfires, and fishing. the sun, and the color, and the warmth. i have been longing for the spring. and since i live in omaha, the land of 2 seasons, i will settle for summer.

bring on the sprummer!

Bring me the sunset in a cup
Emily Dickinson

Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps --
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs --
How many trips the Tortoise makes --
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite --
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Passing Pomposity?

I'll tell you how the Sun rose
Emily Dickinson

I'll tell you how the Sun rose --
A Ribbon at a time --
The Steeples swam in Amethyst --
The news, like Squirrels, ran --
The Hills untied their Bonnets --
The Bobolinks -- begun --
Then I said softly to myself --
"That must have been the Sun"!
But how he set -- I know not --
There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while --
Till when they reached the other side,
A Dominie in Gray --
Put gently up the evening Bars --
And led the flock away --

In the Sun Art Print
In The Sun
Andrea Kahn


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