HOW TO KNOW IT'S SUMMER

On skin, sweat.

In the afternoon, baths in the kitchen sink.

Between toes, mud.

On the stereo, The Beach Boys.

Overheard, tales of travel.

On sandwiches, avocado.

During the night, stargazing.

After dinner, running barefoot outside.

For bedtime, windows open.

On the calendar, camping trips.

Dripping onto bellies, watermelon juice.

At the park, concerts.

For breakfast, berries.

During the afternoon, visits with Granny.

Tucked behind ears, wildflowers.

After naps, the air-conditioned library.

On clotheslines, swimming suits.

In the freezer, popsicles.

For squeezing, naked baby thighs.

On our minds, the ocean.

In our hair, sand.