She sprinted by in an instant. If you weren’t paying attention, you missed her. If you were, say, too busy sneezing or fending off the latest fashionable super bug, you failed to feel the gentle breezes. While you were standing in lines for those spanking new iPads or latest dystopian flick, you couldn’t see the deflated magnolia petals falling like bitter disappointment on the lawns. If you worked without respite in the futile race against obsolescence, as I have done these last two weeks, you were unaware of the fleeting grand finale of rebirth that burst over the land, leaving only traces of spent flower casings and the whiff of pollen sulfur, like early morning after the Fourth.
Summer, with all his brazenly tanned groupies and larger-than-life boombox, waits impatiently at the door.