summertime
this contentment
is like the edge of longing for yesterday
when what was to be was rounding the corner
the knowing that whatever came would be good
and the sun would forestall every tear
sunshine upon the bees of summer
busy in the making of honey days and high teas
and tennis on the lawns of long evenings
of such contentment as will last a lifetime of winters
the pollen a mist under a high sun
and summer only just begun
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