Midnight Summer

It’s the beginning of October in Atlanta

& it still smells like summer.

I thought I heard the rustle of leaves

but I realized that it was just an airplane

Back home, we geared up for winter

We pulled out blankets and hot apple cider

and snuggled up for the drive-in movie

in the back of an old pick-up truck

noses cold, bodies huddled and warm

Here, though, the summer never ends.

The air conditioner sweats and groans

laboring to create a façade of artificial cool,

with the outdoor thermostat still pushing 85

Every night I sit outside on the screen porch

until the rickety old fan

sends shadows dancing from the yellow light

and the mosquitoes slowly take over the darkness

It feels like a dream.

Alaskans are privy to a midnight sun;

Here in Georgia, we have a midnight summer.

It feels like a collection of those moments

when you wake up before dawn

with the overwhelming urge to explore

this wild and empty world

or to wake someone up & share with them

the buzzing, endless night

How can you feel alone, though,

when the sun warmed pavement

radiates heat into the night sky

and for the last few hours of each day

reality consists of nothing

but freckles

and adventures

and rain the temperature of your skin?





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