A Villanelle

The pool is open, did you not hear? 

There’s a banner in town advertising it. 

Summer hasn’t yet slipped from my fingertips. 

I almost want to cry 

When I think about June morphing into July morphing into August. 

I don’t want to think about high school 

So I hold onto summer, 

Delude myself with these fast, magical three months. 

I don’t want to think about high school. 

Just months ago there was snow dusted across our yard; 

Now it’s full of ripe green grass tipped with brown, 

The hammock under the tree. 

Only weeks until I go to camp. 

It feels like just yesterday that I was last there

And spun sunlit memories across the wide cool pond.

Days are gone, and better ones are to come,

But I hold onto summer with all my might,

Dreading the moment when the last tendrils of heat

Slip from my fingertips.