Lourdes’ Weekly Poetry Corner

April 1, 2023 • Written by Lourdes Hernandez

Sleepy Summer

I will not know the last time I will sit under a willow tree.
I hope the sky will be lazy with dusk on a stagnant summer's eve.

When was I last there?

Pulling up the grass as my bum soaks up last night's rain.
There are no cars, but I can hear

Faint buzzing from the nearest television,

and

Wind chimes that clink, dazed.

All the hair on my shoulders feel warm.
No reason to think of anything but the way it is right now.

My friend is talking. We are talking. In the grass, under the willow tree. I think, she is beautiful. How many days did I spend with her? Just that way? Not enough.

When it finally gets dark, I listen to crickets and the whirring of the fan in my home. Humidity hugs me tighter now. I wish it would let me go, yet it is still so comfortable. Not unlike the way my mother loves me.

I do miss it. The humidity, the wet grass, my beautiful friend. I spent nearly every day outside. Where did it all go?

Did it run away with the wind? All hot and sticky.

School will come soon and all I will think of is boys and math.

Things were never the same. We moved to the other side of town. The other side of the world. Away from the apartments and my beautiful friend and the willow tree.

This new grass, this new summer, was not the same. The grass was woody and tall. The sounds did not buzz or clink. There were no beautiful friends.

This summer, I would sit in this new grass and let the sun wash me. Let it sing to me. A small boy played next door, his laughter was constant.

I loved this new roar when the wind flew through the trees. There were so many more here, and so much closer too. But no willow tree.

I was too afraid to sit against it. To lean on her back and write a song under her wings.
How fast time flies when you’re afraid.