Middle Of June Poem by hanna s.

a careless white of flowers
a delicate purple of herbs
the fields are endless
the time is yours

nostalgia's become my invincible enemy
since i realized every summer goes
the birches are high
and so are the hopes

i'd like to try a piece of these mellow swamps
the light flickers and the color combinations are insane
sometimes everything's so sunlit

the truth's that everything actually blossoms and wilts
but there's nothing bad in it