summer with my children

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

walking

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
excited, jittery
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.