Juneshine

Greenbelt radio
plays a tree tunnel song.
They all come out.
They all come out.
Into the Juneshine.
I see them sway
in poppy petal
summer dresses.
I watch them splash
on the shore
of the neighborhood lake.
They ride and skate
past me like motorized
sparrows.
They all come out.
Under the arms of the acorn
I wait to buy a popcicle
and swim in the tides
of cell phone conversation
and chimp squeals of
wading pool children.
In the sun strobe of the
acorn's leaves
I know I don't belong.
I don't belong
to the Juneshine sun.
Rain or shine
I can't forget
every mistake,
every doomed beginning
every sad ending
every bitter realization.
They all come out.
They all come out
to embrace their world
and remind me
I'm not one of them.