favorite variety without another known name.
lipstick red, heart-shaped, two bites sized.
We indulge out of hand,
Jam jars now enthusiastically anticipated by teachers and office staff. Why was I so generous ending kindergarten?!
Field day watermelon,
final School Committee meeting.
What?! There’s one more bake sale?
I note the chirpy, happy summer’s coming tweets from friends sans kiddos. One request – free advice for a friend of a friend freaking out – sends me to cliff’s edge. Balls dropped from this height could never be reclaimed.
June is like December, I explain. Think holiday frenzy. It’s all good, just unbelievably busy.
Scramble back from the precipice.
Get up at 4:30. Suddenly too hot to sleep anyway
this summer/not summer season.
This long-short time.
This too shall pass.