Pilgrimage To This Warmth

You could say
summer means a million things
but summer's gone and waiting,
feels like tomorrow's thinking
like this morning's sitting.

You thought it could
but wait it couldn't
yet somehow it did,
and summer went away.

From the hill through the valley
upstream from down the corner
to the place in lieu of understanding.

You could think anything
but what would make it all better
you don't see
at first

but then it comes back around
summer
to warm your joints out of their frozen sleep.

Maybe by then,
the sun'll be out
the grass as alive
the wind forgiving.

And maybe by then,
you'll have realised
that summer went away
so you'd call it back to stay
so you'd weep and touch the ground
until you go in
and find summer again.