January Summer

My summer pieces are stored away
So I’m down to this turtleneck with rolled-up sleeves
Pale sunlight lounging along houses all day
Gives me hope of stretching it in both directions
Like saltwater taffy
And the feeling of unending summer
Days that carry days within them
I’m sipping on balmy breeze instead of hot tea
Watching my kids play barefoot in the park
Seeing each idling adult’s eyebrows arching 
Wondering, worrying, Is this a bad sign?
But the aroma of waking earth melts my mind 
As I return to basking in warm winter sunshine 

Alexis Young
Swarthmore