Under the dream of summer
I become a lazy traveler, like chrysanthemums
breaking and falling,
spreading my thoughts like sunlight on my shirt..
Songs dance my feet into islands, stepping
over warm sand and then rolling in its gold.
A lemon sun held the day, judging stars
to withhold and the moon to resist its frozen shine.
I am unafraid of corners and shadows or skies
gray with wind,
knowing summer will return and my
dreams not far behind.
Roger Singer 