I read online, I send emails, I look at the news, I do the few bits of work I'm responsible for that've carried over past the school year. And I'm crabby, and I don't feel like myself, and my head aches.
And then I go to my brother's and help him clean out his house with the windows thrown open, or I walk through the neighborhood with my dog, or scrub my smudgy, dusty car, all under the white sun and above the searing black pavement, and I sweat, and mud and bits of sticks cling to my feet, and I see a bunny run by near the woods and hear the bleeping cheery chirp of a cardinal perched somewhere above, and I hum and smiles come so easily and I'm myself and I want to always feel like this, sweaty and a little wild and beaming, the Tennessee summer come alive.
And then I go to my brother's and help him clean out his house with the windows thrown open, or I walk through the neighborhood with my dog, or scrub my smudgy, dusty car, all under the white sun and above the searing black pavement, and I sweat, and mud and bits of sticks cling to my feet, and I see a bunny run by near the woods and hear the bleeping cheery chirp of a cardinal perched somewhere above, and I hum and smiles come so easily and I'm myself and I want to always feel like this, sweaty and a little wild and beaming, the Tennessee summer come alive.
