A largeness fills us in the first days of summer:
Hearts expand like helium balloons,
Swelling to carry the giddy adjustment
Of hours added on to days,
Of stamped-gravel-texture on bare knees and shins,
Fingers first coloured in the pastel prints of creation
When all the ground beneath your feet
Becomes a rippling canvas.

Sweat beads form tide pools in the crevices of your skin,
Like there is an ocean inside of you,
Crashing up and spilling over the backs of you legs
And the jagged crest of shoreline that is your collar bone
To cool and salt the sand that burns golden all over you;
To leave adventures swimming
Like so many little fish–
Colourful and iridescent in the rocks–
Carried on the wave of the first days of summer.