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When Cicadas Chirped
I want to go back to when bubbles popped in my hair
When mosquito bites littered my lanky legs and I caught fireflies midair
Back to when chalk dusted my rough rhinestone pants
Back to when I loved to dance
I miss the soft sunsets of a summer’s long day
A masterpiece to wrap up the evenings play
A fluid vibrancy that never seems to lose its grace
Orange streaks of fractured sunlight that warmed my face
I can still taste the cherry syrup of a popsicle as it drips
Melting in the midday sun and red staining my lips
A breeze blows and stirs up the scent of that old plum tree
Honeysuckle and muscadine, the sweet nectars of childhood greet me
Take me back to when the mourning dove was summers playlist
When I giggled with my friends and the grill hissed
When cicadas chirped in the muggy heat
When I whispered to my parents “goodnight” from under my bed sheet
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This poem is about reminiscing back on summers when I was little.