Summer Sounds I crunch the surface, Of the frozen treat. Already melting, In the blasting heat. The berries popping, Bursting on my tongue. The night has run late, But the heat is young. My mouth is cooler, But the sweat still drips. Running down my cheek, And my frozen lips. I swat at the bugs, Kick my flip-flops off. Flop onto the grass, With a dry, sore cough. My throat is scratchy, And my t-shirt sticks. My soaking body, Water and sweat mixed. I heave myself up, Ears starting to ring. Stumbling down the path, To my hidden spring. The water lies, crisp, Beneath the rough ledge, Uneven, untouched, My hands at the edge. I cut the water, My green eyes grow wide. They match the forest, I'd found this place inside. It rippled at me, Ice-cold to the touch. Greeting my figure, Not sweltering as much. In my worn t-shirt, I pad to the top. I'm ready to dive, So I pause, just stop. Looking above me, The trees tower high. Their branches waving, At the birds and I. The badger looks up, A cuckoo chirps too. In wonder of me, What I'm about to do. I leap from the patch, Of grass I was on. A second I'm there, The next I am gone. I arch through the air, Its heat tugs me back. Reaching the surface, Landing with a crack. Perfectly sculpted, The cool water breaks. It embraces me, Hiding the noise it makes. Chirps and growls, Muffled above me. The sounds of summer, Heard when you cannot see.