Not Yet

Please, can we stop the post-mortem on summer. It's August. No, I'm not glad the kids are going back to school this week. There's tons of time left. Time for

softball played by wistful girls

Potions made by princesses in pools

And milkshakes drunk shoeless under a tree

So have a popsicle, walk down dusty gravel roads, swim, flop down in the grass.

Eat watermelon and let it drip down your elbows, yell after dark and play bloody murder with your friends.

Get mosquito bites and chiggers and nettles and go back for more the next day.

Swing, jump out and do it again.

Savor the season, soon enough we'll be bundling and huddling. Use up the last bit of summer and drain the glass for every drop.