The onset of summer leaves me vibrating and nostalgic like folk music,
the sunset like melting ice cream and honeydew scents
curling in the newly forming blossoms on the trees.
I feel young and small and tired, fallen from the nest too soon.
I feel strong and awake and ready, getting drunk on warming air.
The paradox of 22, too young to not call mother, too old to miss her much.
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Emerald Dove
This is so beautiful – you really have such a talent! I love the phrases you use – they wouldn't be out of place in a Fitzgerald novel. 🙂
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