Summer is melting the roof of the world,Where a lonely gray sea breaks its back.
Time is scented by poplars and lilac-blossoms.
Peering into a star-flower, the sun forgets to set.
During a circuit around the park, my eyes linger
On the ridge-line of the Chugach Mountains,
Blinking into a heart awash with elation,
Argent eclipse of a life's tear-filled cistern.
A three-year-old girl lifts her arms, and turns,
Twirling just ahead of her own silhouette.
Am I rewriting, or living backwards?
Between her shadow and mine, a secret stirs.