Summer, always.

Well you're just in time to sit a while
The bench is little more than a pile
Of planks and paint and metal screws
But it's just enough for me.

It's one of those days where the sun's bright rays
Tend to blind, tend to melt, tend to hum
It's just too damn hot for the same routine,
And so you venture out.

Sweat pours into your eyes,
Bugs buzz through the air
You grab your bike and your music and your keys
And you brush your fingers quickly through your hair.

On the hunt, you are, for something new, something you haven't known
On the search for something exotic that makes you feel like you've found home
A slurpee, first, of course, before you turn to mush
Striped green and blue and red; that sugary, glorious slush.

Balanced on the handlebars, now, a sip here, a sip there
You ride your bike past the walk your bike signs, pretending you don't care.
Drip, drip, drip. The sweat and the ice cold condensation
Meld to form that feeling from your childhood

Sticky contentment.

You gain confidence, faster and faster, as you reach the banks of the river.
Turning wide, you pump harder, and chase that current down
Race the canoers; One, Two, Three, Four!
They paddle as if they're all guiding the same oar.

Unfamiliar territory now, you have no idea what's around the bend
A detour sign, a few pot holes--it's quieter on this end.

Further, still further on, over hills and under trees
And then you spot it
That bright red bench
And it turns out you...are me.

I sit a while and breathe
I pull a flask from my pocket and drink
I finish the last stubborn ice chunks from my slurpee
I lay on the bench and I dream

When I fully wake a while later
My skin still sticky and my bike untaken
I climb back on and head towards home--
Perhaps it's good I went alone

I glide through a sprinkler and every puddle I see
I roll up to my house slightly more free
NOW I can start my weekend, I feel
Well...after a really long shower.