Crash,
Splash,
Gasp.

I taste the Lake midair
(a taste of crystalline, aquamarine)
As we wend onward
(feet bared to velvet sand that shifts away)
Between pebbled concrete, slippery rock, and tilted, rusted steel
(our fingers touch, tangle now and again)
Holding back Nature’s persistent,
Indifferent
Hand…

…But only for so long.

Crash,
Splash.

~ David Jay Spyker

It is just a taste,
Just a tingle upon the tongue,
But still something I can lick from the air.

It is something like a fleeting shadow,
Like something seen from the corner of the eye
At the edge of the woods under Harvest Moon
- palpable,
Yet, intangible all the same.

It is borne upon the wind
With birdsong that speaks
Of water in the sky
- a cry -
And hope for a too-long-thirsty land.

twah-LURP, TWAH-lurrr
twah-LURP, TWAH-lurrr

Roiling…
Moist and cool…

The Sun struggles
To bake the Earth today,
But clouds surrender
And burn beneath his fervor.

Birdsong’s hope would have to wait.

Today it is Summer still,
Though tomorrow lies spilled out ahead,
A question left open-ended.

I feel already
The answer that is soon to become.
Still,
Today I leave that to the Future,
Because today it is Summer still.

~ David Jay Spyker, August 1st, 2009

Today was one of those days when you know that Summer is turning a corner, but is not quite there yet. It’s a little melancholy, and you want to hang on to the season while it lasts.