I turned around and summer blinked, sons tall as sunflowers, my daughter Bobbing in the Atlantic ocean — I looked around and summer blinked — hot
July nights flashed by, air conditioner humming high, and evenings already Shortening with Perseid Meteors falling from the sky — soon I take my
Youngest son to college — someone writes that offspring are like planets to Their parents’ sons — all summer my children have orbited in ever widening
Circles from where they began, and while I know they will always journey Home every now and then — while I blinked, childhood passed and I am left
With memories suffusing me, memories flashing by of lightning summer Days, Black-eyed Susan’s, pink sea roses wide and fleshy spreading along the
Shoreline and, while I was blinking, summer stole by, sunshine exploded, Heat shimmered just above the asphalt, and flowers bloomed long and late.