Not Just Yet

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I can feel it in the air,

I see it in the way the sun stays tucked under the covers just a little longer every morning.

I smell it the stores, in the waxy scent of crayons, their tips perfectly pointed inside pristine yellow boxes all lined up in wait.

It's in the scuffling of new shoes down the threadbare aisle of the shoe store.

The shoes, the air, the crayons, the sun are all in on the secret that a new school year is sneaking up on Summer.

As for me,

I'm staying up late to watch the moon rise, its ivory face peering down from an inky sky.

I'm picking breakfast blackberries, standing barefoot in my backyard and eating them straight from the brambles,

I'm languishing in long baths and drowning myself in good books read in bed.

I'm slipping through Wednesday morning traffic with my kayak piggyback on my car, both of us giddy to glide on the water.

The school year is sneaking up on me, inching up my spine and edging into my dreams.

But I'm in on a secret that the shoes, the air, the crayons, and the sun do not know.

Summer is ending,

But not just yet.