Slowly Sipping

I grab my favorite dress from the closet
the red one with white flowers and a hole
and walk out to the porch
the afternoon sun greets me
and my chilled skin can taste the warmth

slowly sipping
sipping the last of summer

I step into the crocs sitting by the back door
the bright blue ones that don’t match
and I walk out to the yard
leaves dance in the breeze
and I grab one — savoring the bright green

slowly sipping
sipping the last of summer

the garden beckons me for a visit
the tomato plants stand eager, mouths open
and so I grab the tattered hose
showering them with water
and my own skin welcomes a drink

slowly sipping
sipping the last of summer

I’m sweaty from my brief visit outdoors
so I go inside and squeeze lemons
into grandma’s glass pitcher 
add sugar and water, then pour
and the bitter sweetness nips at my lips

slowly sipping
sipping the last of summer

back to the porch, I rock in the chair
the one grandma’s grandpa made
and watch the fireworks
bright colors painting the sky
and I grab my cup — only a little left

slowly sipping
sipping the very last of summer