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| A lil sketch of the place, pre succulent garden. |
Summer in the Blue House: Pt. 2
We all wake parched in separate rooms
To city summer gray
Begging to be burned off by August
We wander through halls
Down stairs and stairs
To meet in the morning-light and make sense of where the
weekend went.
We share the front stoop with passersby
And innumerable jars of forgotten tea
Left to steep all summer
In sun, cigarettes and whispers
Privy to afternoon gossip
And late nights that spilled out the door and into the
street.
We are laughing on a hill
As dusk approaches
Bellies full of wine, drunk on a view of the city
There is music in the dry grass
And wisps of smoke in our eyes
As the fog rolls in over rooftops and bright lights.
We are together for a brimming moment
Sunburnt days, and nights we danced over worn floorboards.
Now we will fold summer between our embraces
Tuck it into bed as our breathing slows
Let it fade as photos will
To subside finally and ever so gently into Fall and memory.
And now a fitting song from my favorite Glaswegian musical bunch! And another fitting song from Beirut of whom I am also quite fond.
