Summer,
a cooing mourning dove at dawn,
the fragrance of rosemary on the fingers,
the deceptive stasis of a hummingbird,
the arc of a baseball into the center field seats,
local tomatoes,
the atonal din of the ice cream man,
emergent green corn,
an evening fire-pit with cold beer 
and cheese doodles,
the pull of a fish on a fly line,
crickets drowning out the sound of the TV downstairs,
a cocktail on the deck,
dusk dominated by fireflies,
trading shoes for flip-flops,
sleeping with the window open to a soft night rain,
bronze wheat blowing in the prairie wind.
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