Summer is long / a poem

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Poem:
Summer is endless,
you can grow a garden in your pocket alone.
The self shifts
with every experience you make
there are new smudges of memories.

Anything is everything
if you add up all the experiences in the world.

Adding up the choices: the long winding,
intertwining wrong & right as if they belong together.
Your experiences sticking to your chest, heaving for air,
you are free.

Mellow sunset colours everday & the trickles of sunlight down your back.
Sleepwalking, awake talking
to the shadow on the door
in the morning- buttering toast on cracked plates.

The ins and outs, you bottle and shove deep under the bed
-to gather dust, to be found again when you move on and out.
Revisiting memories is like burning yourself on hot tea.
That’s when you cherish moments like these.

If you’re lucky you are one of those people
that feel bursts of life, everything is perfection.
If you’re unlucky you’re one of those people
that feel too much, that can’t be still but
some days, weeks must be still.

Silent conversations, staring into the distance.
Summer is long, summer is the longest time
but in the blink of an eye it goes
and you are left
with stained dungarees, wilted roses and memories of meadows.

Don’t forget
there’s always next year.