The first thing I remember

is my backyard.

Green, bright.

I hear the crows,

talking in their own language.

Flying from tree to tree

passing along a message

as they go.

I taste the sweet,sour, and cold.

My grandmother so kindly

offered me a refreshing cold treat.

Popsicles.

Always fruity and juicy,

grape being my favorite.

I see sprinklerrs

spraying and spitting water droplets

in yards surrounding my own.

I touch the yellow swing

neglected by the children of my house.

Cold and calming

it calls for a passenger.

I smell fresh grass,

just cut the night before.

Sitting in piles around lawns,

showing who has mowed recently.

The calming and familiar smell

comforts me.

Summer,

sweet sweet

Summer.