Summer

We eat the flesh

And spit the seeds,

Leave nothing but the rinds.

Ruby juice stains our chins

And white tanks—

All the rage that year—

And the wood of the deck

Where we sat

And talked

And burned our faces.

I fell in love that year,

With the sun

And glass soda bottles

And guitar music

And the idea of love.

We went wading in the stream,

Collected all the pretty stones,

And lost them on the way home.

That summer

Looked like heaven

Sounded like an old piano

And tasted like watermelon.