A Summer Sestina – Poem by Amelie Lynn Peterson
A soft, nostalgic spiral of heat, sound, and memories that won’t quite settle.
In A Summer Sestina, Amelie Lynn Peterson captures the blur of heat, haze, and half-forgotten feelings—where earbuds replace thoughts and ice cream stains become proof we were here. Read now on Written Tales. Submissions are open for work that feels like a season stuck in time.
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Gas station bathrooms with no mirrors Summer songs I can drown in to pretend that I’m not real Going on drives/Hoping to leave myself behind Bare feet in the sand/Earbuds in/Volume up Waves of seagulls taking flight from hot pavement High-power A/C cools my neck/Lifts my hair Newly cut grass at a public park leaving remnants in my hair Heat waves rise off car hoods in my rearview mirrors Summer smells like sunscreen/Smells like ice cream on the pavement The smells make the season tangible/Make it memorable/Make it real For those of us who don’t know what day it is/Can’t keep up Long walks/Ice cream sandwiches/Lift us skyward/Leave us behind A warm breeze tickling my knees from behind Freckles across the bridge of my nose/Natural highlights in my hair Sunlight peeking through the blinds when I first wake up Aloe vera makes my sunburn look shiny/Makes me look twice in mirrors Summer reminds me of dead friends/Friends who were genuine/Real Looking out my window/I watch squiggles of hot air rise from pavement I watch children draw in chalk on the pavement They’ll be soaking up the season until it leaves us behind Turn up the A/C, we’ll pretend climate change isn’t real Life’s too long or too short/Let’s play dress-up/Cut our hair I catch glimpses of a dreamer when I glance in fashion store mirrors Here I am, pretending summer is forever/Pretending I’m on my way up Here’s to hoping running barefoot will turn my world right side up Hoping if I run fast enough, my feet won’t burn on the pavement Sunny glow to skin/Freckled faces/Seasonal smiles reflected in mirrors An atmosphere of hope brings extra sunlight/Leaves shadows behind Summer is dead grass/Vacations/Camping trips/Blonder hair Somehow the smell of barbecues makes the season seem more real Oh dear summer, my favorite fair-weather friend, your transience is real The earlier the sun shows its face/the earlier I wake up - Then suddenly the days grow shorter again/But longer is my hair - Until fall comes with the crunch of dead leaves/The cooler sidewalk pavement We’re savoring the days before the geese go back to the wind/Leave us behind Until the summer leaves us here/Hardly glancing in its rearview mirrors
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✍️ About the Authors
Amelie is an imaginative, multifaceted word artist who is easily bored. She can hear X-rays. She is unabashedly and undeniably neurodivergent. Her work has been featured in ScribesMICRO magazine, Fevers of the Mind, One Page Poetry, and Turtle Way's literary art journal.
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Big WOW/Wonderful/Brought the child within/out
Feet feeling the sidewalk's heat/despite the snow's chill
Thank you, Amelie.
I stumbled onto this piece and absolutely loved it!