Summer Stroll on Belmont Hill

I step in time with the symphony
crickets on their instruments
cicadas singing summer songs
birds competing for the lead
air condition units all around
hum
hum

the bell tolls

window fans rise to a crescendo
with each step

I pretend the summer cares which beat
Makes me march to its sound & fury
I wave my arms—a pseudo-conductor—
Wishing I could take it all to a pianissimo
So the Honeysuckle—horn-shaped but silent—
could solo
A sweet scent, which plays louder memories
Than all the sections combined
of late-night strolls
young loves
warm days on the lake
grandma’s house
running outdoors
with childhood tunes on my mind