Summer

smoked salmon skylines streak across my sights
while I run back hesitant, bold and unafraid.
the everyday life outside proved to be too much
to handle, with much ado about nothing more
than a soiled hope of things getting better. these days
pass slowly, with each string strummed individually and
with each chord uttered nonchalantly. day by day, winter
slowly comes. there is an abrupt pause additional. and then
I start running back again. posters and persons greet my face
with their equally blank faces, and I fly past them to get back home.
everyday is an arthouse movie that gets no reviews,
an album streamed by one of your two parents, and then abruptly
paused. the same summer song plays on repeat in a foreign
tongue none but some understand, but what’s the point?
summer starts when the silent streams become rivers.