leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- my summer It is my season. My time of year. The winter keeps my secrets and grants me new beginnings. But summer soothes my soul and draws me outside to play. I love the shouts of the children while I glide through the pool. All of them circling about me in their water-wings, eager to brag to the strange adult about their swimming prowess. Mothers look on absently; and I think to myself that if I am ever blessed with a child, I will be more overcome by the need to share the magical water with them, than the desire to hide the jiggle of my thighs or keep my hair dry. God, save me from skin cancer, I love to dry lounging in the embrace of the sun. I love the dark, reddish-brown glow of my skin, inherited from my father and his Apache grandmother. I love the chlorine scent of my towel when I hang it to dry. I hold it to my face and smile from somewhere deep, and simple, and good. I love listening to the hum of the air conditioner and sucking constantly at ice, flavored by sweet mint tea. I thrive on the lack of sleep caused by hot nights that stir me awake after brief spells of vivid dreams. My dreams are alive in the summer and full of secret wants. As if the summer tilt of the earth opens my heart and only then does it speak with courage. Summer awakens my elements and I am happy. I was born in the winter, but in the summer I am alive. And my eyes are open. 8:44 a.m. - May 19, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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