Summer's Almost Gone

Emily is sitting on the corner of my desk with a bowl of mango ice cream in her lap. She takes a spoonful and her eyes light up while a big silly grin spreads across her face, "God Jim, this is better than sex!"

"Gee, Em, thanks a lot....what does that say about me?"

"Silly, you know what I mean!" She actually rubs her tummy and does a little sitting down dance, swinging the bowl like a chilly censer.

I'm sitting here at the computer, looking up at her. She sits on the corner with one leg crossed primly over the other. I put my hand on her knee, bare between the hem of her denim skirt and the top of her cowgirl boots, and I tap in time to the music Scelsa is playing on the radio. She sings along with Lou Reed's "Walk On The Wild Side" then starts to rock out in a totally over the top version of Neil Diamond's "Desiree" that has us both falling off the furniture laughing.

When we finally catch our breath she downs the rest of her ice cream and looks ruefully into the bottom of the empty bowl. "More later?"

"If you're a good girl."

She flashes me a wicked grin. "Then definitely more later! Yay!"

"For you, anytime, darlin."

She puts the bowl down on the desk, sits on my knee and puts her arm around my shoulder. "You look a little wistful, Jim. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's just the coming changing of the seasons. Tonight I noticed it was dark before Keillor's show was over. The days are getting shorter already. Seems like summer barely got here and it's leaving already."

"I know, Jim. But it's really alright. The things that matter don't ever change. And remember what I told you before, you will always have a choice, in everything. Even about you and me...."

I can't help but laugh at that. "Em, you know that choice was made the day we met!"

"I know," she says, "but I still love to hear you say it." She kisses me lightly, her lips taste of mangos and autumn. "That takes care of the important thing, Jim. Everything else will take care of itself." The silly smile comes back to her face, "Now, the really important thing....more ice cream please?"

August

We went to July's funeral and you danced in the smoke from the pyre, your hands weaving arabesques, your feet tracing the summer tide in the ashes and sand. And the heat lightning jumps from star to star, and the fireflies drift from tree to tree. And the river hisses on the sand, and your eyes reflect the summer moon.

And we twirled a dark waltz along the shore, my arm around your waist, feeling the black crepe and the sweat, and the eagerness of your breathing. And I can't wait to kiss you, but I'm making the moment last....