Boyhood Blues

Boyhood Blues It feels like summer – The s(h)immer of an enduring sun Sitting down at a family dinner with the front door open Nostalgia coats everything like a thin layer of dust Stale memories swirl about in each breath It smells like a childhood home and tastes of summers past (lost freedom and simplicity wait in every bite) It feels like summer – and I don’t know what to do Because summer is a scrapbook discovered in the attic amidst swirling dust pictures stained with déjà vu and paper scraps curled from age Because heartache strips me down to a few golden-egg moments Because I’m exposed against the battering winds of Time and Fate (As they weigh me down in their entrapping fog) You see, summer is not a season but a tangible sliver of the cosmos that brushes up against us and moves past