It is now that the hydrangeas
are in bloom,
that the air is thick and green
and an inexplicable scent
of watermelon hangs along
It is now that purple milkweed
is in bloom and butterflies
bring the air alive with color.
Yesterday, I found one sleeping,
wings still and legs folded,
inside the pale pink petals of a lily.
I found a hummingbird nest, too,
in the road,
carefully thatched with bits of lichen.
The wild raspberries are ripe
and I watched ten vultures in flight
above the valley
my sweaty face tipped back
to watch them glide.
I saw a long black snake in the road
and a rusty-orange salamander.
I find myself wondering
what would happen
if I allowed myself
to soften into summer
allowing myself to be slow and luminous,
satisfied with where I am
and what I’ve done,
content to watch the clouds gather,
a cool glass of green tea in my hands
and wild raspberries on my tongue.
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