send them outside
these last summer days
into the sunlight, warmth, freedom
of forts and crickets and skinned knees and wading pool and ice pops dripping with summer heat.
summer days when
Catherine goes from four wheels to two
training wheels come off
Jude goes from four limbs to two
Jack goes from needing diapers to finding trees and rocks for those things
Camille rides, pedals to the metal and skids out,
her personality in a bike ride.
summer days long and bright grow faintly shorter
morning air faintly crisper
aspen leaves changing, lightening not yet yellow
the boxes - white and large, brown and small - arrive
new books, yet unread
new texts, yet unanswered
new days, unknown
Catherine's school days about to begin.
frustration wanting to reach forward,
ache wanting to stay behind
here in this sweet nostalgia of summer with my children.