the last baby bird to flyflewand the first of the fewsunflowers to bloombloomedand deep in the heartof Junewe plucked red strawberriestwo by two. and I’d say, don’t looknow, but Ialready knew—summercaught windof us again,us wild little thingstakingour sweet oldtime. summer is a cleverthief, I’ve foundand somehow,somehowunderthat smooth-talkingsun,we grew and grewandgrewwithoutever knowingit. -S.V.F., In the Heart of… Continue reading