Summer storms through the silly season
And I am my own fashion treason.
Asleep in my hoodie and flip flops,
Cropped leggings and blue Whovian top.
At my desk the universe lights up
But a first thing first, where’s my Garfield cup?
On my phone is a little image
So my sleepy eyes start to scrimmage.
An old photo of a time and place
Where five girls are caught in an embrace.
They look up at me from yesterday
Far. Far, away from this port side bay.
Those were the days of Pimms and flowers,
Best friends, and summer showers.
Gone are those days of dancing till dawn,
Getting drunk, waking up on the lawn.
No we’re closer to the big 3-0
Alarm clocks and coffee run the show
Dancing along the trapeze of life
As friend, worker, mother, sister, wife…
The world has spun a few times or more
Since I was last knocking at your door
But no matter how far we all roam
That time, that place, will always be home.
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