Yellow Greens of Summer

We sit on lawn chairs by the pool, eating too many chips and calling it lunch.  Hooked up to the AM radio, my son tunes in and tunes out all at once.  Although Kodak no longer manufactures it's famed KODACHROME transparency film I keep singing that song, ever hopeful.  The grass turns yellow underfoot.  I am waiting, still.

Fast Forward

Gone are the long afternoons spent floating on my back in my parent's pool.  I would gaze up at the blue sky til it turned silver.  This summer has yet to slow down.  While my boys are enjoying it all I can't seem to refill their water bottles fast enough.  I am breathing, barely.

The issue is that this summer is all about next summer.  My oldest son is ready for a change.  I investigate sleep-away camps in an effort to find the right place for him.  I make phone calls, my stomach turns, I hold back tears.

I have seen my son leap into newness without worry.  Sometimes his confidence level exceeds his abilities.  But no matter, I admire his moxie.  Anxiety is my business.  In a dream I am fearless, flying alongside him.

Red Hot

I am hot or cold, moving between passion and disinterest. Creative highs are my fireworks. In off moments I recharge through the tedium. When I stumble upon an image, I spark and everything makes sense. I am these imperfect opposites - - a flash of light, then dark.