Summer

A poem

Last summer, the sun
was too much. It was
blinding and I wanted
to escape its scorching
touch that I felt all hours
of the day, even in the 
deepest part of night. 

I like it now, through
a little rain, muted, 
refracted, pale behind
clouds. 

Here, where I swim,
whether it is wet season
or dry, it is always
summer. 

I don't look for it, 
it comes looking
for me. 

Summer Writing Sanctuary with Beth Kempton, Poem #2 
August 24, 2024, rainy season in the Philippines
Image mine (paintings by me and my daughter, C)
#poetry