Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
Choose a genuine response. Counts appear only after several readers agree.
Summer is the season that forgets to end on time—it lingers at the shore like a guest who loves your house more than you do.
Tomorrow the alarm returns, the lunchbox, the clean shoes, the careful name inside the coat.
June gives us the longest day and we still waste most of it talking about the weather.
The score doesn't matter. I know it does. I know there are people who will read that sentence and close the poem.
The best basketball happens after the game. When the gym is locked and the scoreboard is off.
Tonight the world gives us permission to be something else.
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