Summer

I kept it under the lid,

tight and safe;

silent effervescence, water- trapped

in a green bottle with a blue marble .

A summer child’s longing eyes on the codd-neck,

lining the old man’s box- shack, 

after cricket on a sweltering afternoon;

déjà vu.

The bottle pops and explodes,

fizzes...

the sour outpourings of the soul

corrosive on the lips.