What summer feels like.

The crowd at Rita's has changed, once again.
I still go to pick up my gelati
(not quite gelato)
Amazed to see the immaturity of the current crowd.
The chunks of real cherries in a pond of cherry flavor.

Although, I suppose the last time I was there,
we salsa danced.
Public disruption in our own right.
Old friend, old times.

It's like these chairs,
how I sat in the same one last year,
Summertime. This time of year.

I was waiting for you to come say goodbye
before you left the country.
We sat, chatted.
I thought we had the world ahead of us.

Pennsylvania lit up the night
first, with lightning bugs
Fireflies, then a proud array of stars.

The next night I did more of the same
reading 17 magazine and painting my nails.
The brightest color I could find.

I can hear my family playing badminton in the front yard now.
As always, it's chaos.
Why is my brother so tall?
Our numbers never stay stable anymore.

Life feels so comfortable
worn like a familiar sweater.
Waiting for the company of friends to go for gelato.