• Corona Chronicle,  Cross-Genre,  Poetry

    “ode to summer” by Cheyanne Anderson

    every time I go onto my balcony
    bare feet on dusty cement
    and look down the street
    towards the subway
    towards the market
    towards the road straight to the beach
    the air gets a little warmer
    and I can feel the spring preparing,
    about to pass me by
    _
    and I hope I’ll make it out in time to buy a new sundress
    and a pair of sandals
    because summer somehow always catches me by surprise
    and by the time I’ve thought to embrace the way humidity sits on skin

    there’s a bite in the air and it’s gone again
    _
    I keep dreaming of ways to catch it
    like a firefly in a jar
    (only temporary)
    so I can see it up close
    so I can remember to notice the sweat on the back of my neck
    and the proof it serves
    that 
    I was alive that day
    so
     I can skip down sidewalks
    so
     I can lie in the park
    so
     I can chill another bottle of wine
    s
    o I can kiss and kiss and kiss
    s
    o I can forget to put on sunscreen
    s
    o I can walk until my feet ache
    s
    o I can embrace the way my hair frizzes from my scalp like a crown
    s
    o I can fall in love in ways I’m not sure I deserve
    s
    o I can remember to admire the way the fire hydrant down the street
    (
    somehow always breaking open)
    w
    ashes away cigarette butts and receipts and regrets
    a
    nd makes a babbling brook on Bushwick streets
    j
    ust until the repairman comes on Monday
    j
    ust until I can bring myself to open the jar and let it go
    a
    nd whisper well wishes into the first breeze of autumn

    my heart is too big for this bedroom,