June light on the yard, the screen door breathes, The hot air hangs in the weeds and the trees, Dandelion wine, summer in a bottle, Thick as a secret the cellar can't swallow. And nothing is lost if the mind keeps the trace, The day stays alive in a changeable place. Do you remember, yes, in the glass, Summer with a capital S, held fast. Do you remember, the bright, brief flame, One season returned, though never the same. The old house creaks with a human kind of time, The day slips down into the bottle's shine. And when the first cold touches the pane, I keep that green hour against the rain. Let autumn come, let the leaves go thin, Summer is stored where the heart lives in. Dandelion wine. Summer in a bottle.
