Quality of Summer

The quality of summer is its silence
Humidity forcing the world to slow
So even the flies seem lethargic
In their bids to escape

Hanging in the air with words, if spoken
At all. The quality of summer is that
Burnt salinity of an evening where
The bricks hold their heat

Hold us close till we don't want to
Eat and can't face to ask if we've
Played this all out before under the watch
Of an unblinking sun.

If spoken at all, I'd tell you it doesn't
Matter that we know the form, as the
Quality of summer is that it can't tell
If all happiness is alike

Your fingers pressed into my palms
To draw out a shiver of recognition
I would know you in the silence,
In the heat, in the light.

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