tidal wave of sunlight

my cheek is cool against the glass/ the sweet smell of roasting corn reaches me/ and i lift my head/ momentarily sacrificing my/ respite from the heat./ the rustle of playing cards to my left/ is the chorus to the flap of a butterfly’s wings/ that shimmer in the sun./ a giggle sounds out from somewhere/ echoes in my memory./ sharp summer sun with/ the comfortable rumble of thunder behind us/ and then i’m a little girl again/ with the clouds strapped to my feet/ my father’s wings carefully/ strapped to my back./ when i fly high/ my mother’s love shields me/ from the sun’s wrath, still pure and untainted./ the gods look down on/ us and smile/ their admiration over in a flash/ whisked in peaks of bittersweet./ and somehow, i am no longer stuck in paradise/ but back in our backyard/ with the smell of sweet corn drifting past my nose/ and for now, all is well.

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