Summer Poem by Celine Socrates

Always, you are to be haunted
by the aftertaste leaves
shriveling into their veins,
birds faltering across the atmosphere
in frantic escape to cooler skies,
the sun prying through your heart,
like a hunter in search of shadows,
and you,
fading into yourself in surrender.
Much of it will be lost
in the flurry of songs and sunsets
that form the background of all
you are to consider
lost, yet parts of it
will be distinct and unforgettable,
like the scent of the earth burning
beneath the flesh of your bare feet,
and you,
sinking into its warm crevices,
for once,
learning what it means
to be vulnerable,
learning the exhausting art
of loving.