I pour myself
into summer
like a melted popsicle
half frozen
half melted
but all the way delicious

I dive into summer
as I run on the dock
to cannonball
into the lake
coming up in shock
at the cold
that I know I’ll handle
when I’m numb to it
in five minutes
or so

I road trip
into summer
windows rolled down
radio turned up
where to go
so I can take
the winding back roads
if I want

I relax into summer
on the front porch
with ice cubes
melting in my lemonade
as I feel the warm breeze
on my bare skin
as the chair clings
to the backs of my bare legs

I dream into summer
as my thoughts turn
from school
to a wide-open canvas
of adventures
to embark upon
and time to while away

I backstroke
into summer
with yesterday
in the rearview mirror
tomorrow not yet born
and all there is
is today
floating on the surface
powered forward
by my own pace

I dance into summer
grass under my feet
stars coming out
in the inky black sky above
as the music pulses
and I am surrounded
by the positive energy
of something being created
yet wholly new


Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry has appeared internationally in a wide variety of journals, including The Ravens Perch, HaikUniverse, Haiku Corner, Cold Moon Journal, Scarlet Dragonfly and The Haiku Foundation.