You know those warm summer evenings.

Where it is not yet dark,

but the sun has stopped beating

so hard

now can see

the beauty that lays

in front of me

your knees will grow weak wishing to stay forver

they will lock and hope that you will never be able to walk away

In these summer evenings i was nine

I had my scooter and would push myself across the culdasac

my curls flying behind me

and i was warmed by the sun

till i finally had to say goodbye