On the second day of summer,
sprinklers scattered spray
over hay standing tall, anxious for the first cut.
I planted my earth stained feet,
bathed myself in setting sun,
washing away my winter soul.
Fire
in the sky,
but I felt it,
inside.
Fading daylight danced in waves,
as nightÂ
tucked dayÂ
behind the mountain.
Sparkling sunbeamsÂ
tangled in my hair
where they will stay
until September.