in summer

A small forest
tucked behind bunny burrows and sweet lakes
sits patiently behind
400 Manor Drive.

The forest grows frantically,
vines reaching for air and roots spreading deeper every year.

In fall, the river shivers in periwinkle.
Fireflies hum in the moonlight,
Tall grass cascading over soft crickets.

Winter is celebrated with barren branches and breathless bones,
swans picking at ice indents while eagles sweep the night air.

Spring begins at the skip of a butterfly,
Cocoons broken and fresh cotton in the air.

In summer, the air is damp.
The river runs like a whisper through the warm breeze.

On the outskirts of the forest sits a lily of the valley.

Patient, it sways side to side
collecting dewdrops at dusk,
stretching its leaves out at dawn.

In summer,
wishes are made.
The tourist and townsfolk share their worries with the moss,
prayers reaching deep into the sky.

Through dandelion wishes and sweet breaths of hope,
Manor Drive welcomes all.