summer pariah

dapples of silver
falling on scorched pavement,
silver coins that dance
in the shimmer
of June heat.

from my seat
I hear
the sound of summer
carrying from the beach.

the groan and moan
of an engine,
a boat bouncing
on a carpet of white,

iridescent diamonds
reflecting sunlight.
voices
that sound like picnics
and ice cream
and the shock of cold water
on sun warmed thighs.

The raucous cry of a gulls,
opportunists
scaring terns
away from snacking tourists.

and I sit still and listen
to summer passing
without me.
waiting on school
to save me
in september

-dave kavanagh

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