Clarity

The sun is pouring light, thick and golden and vivd and clear.
The sky is mild summer blue like a robin’s egg;
and flowers bloom red and clustered and vivacious.
The trees are shadowed moss-green and verdant-gold
and everything is limned with light.
Summer, summer, summer sings in my veins,
and I feel these words sitting on the tip of my tongue: “What do I want?”
and I ponder and taste and savor the shape and color and texture of these words: “What do I want?”
and I utter them wonderingly and listen to the way they ripple through the air: “What do I want.”