Already looking back on this summer

The curve of her wrist

tells me it was summer.

Two years ago, a century ago --

Her endless unfolding, my tender witness. 

Vertigo all around.

Sometimes we dream the same dream

One version of grace:

standing still in the middle of all that moving water.

Back when this summer was new:

Sometimes the real world looks painted

and sometimes you can walk into a painting and discover a new way forward.

Summer both inside and out