Song for summer

The morning is damp
Constellation of birdsong
Punctuation by frog, by crow

The Earth bends on itself
and we grab hold:
our feet to the sky,
hair to the ground,
stomachs in our chest

There is surf, seagulls,
the sound of children on the ferris wheel
and the creak of the roller coaster
as it reloads

The night takes its time to settle:
Constellation of cricket, of frog,
Punctuation by star.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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