The Heart Is An Organ Of Fire

(collage "lost in love" 12/1/12)

I'm cautiously settling into a creaky four post bed. 

It's rather early here, but there's no haste.
I find retiring to bed with a glass of red, hearing cicadas scream, wearing my favorite peach slip, and all consumed by the comforting hum of a box fan drawing the sweet mid-west air into my room...

it's all far too comforting. 

Chicago in the Summer is cause for childhood nostalgia.   

Streets lined with meeting oak trees. 

Block Parties. 

The smell of fresh house paint and billowing BBQ's. 

Cicadas, fresh slurry, Italian ice. 

Playing tag, ghost in the graveyard, "don't touch the hot lava", bicycles. 

Sleep overs, sprinklers, mosquito bites, Ice pops.
Accents and inflection of 'Cicero'. 

Movie watching, face to face with a window AC.

Cold showers, no power, coolers of ice, sweat. 

I could go on for days,

good times or bad. 

It's all gets hidden away until a single sense triggers
a rush of memories. 

For me, this reflection happens every summer.

No matter what, my inner child goes haywire,
and I have to remind myself that I'm an adult.

But for tonight, I'm back in the third grade...

making up dances to songs with my three best friends, bike riding around town in the evenings to cool off, watching Airplane or Grease
in the basement while playing
MASH.

Life is fleeting.
No time wasting.

Summer Notes, 

-Lu