Paper boats,

Floating down the street,

Gleeful grins and triumphant shouts,

Cheer on the victor.

The scent of lemons,

Wafting on the morning breeze,

The sound of coins clinking in a small box,

Brings a cold, sweet, sour treat to mind.

Tears,

Dropping slowly down a dirty face,

Leaving streaks in their path,

Quickly forgotten in laughter.

Summer,

Showing itself in bright flashes,

Appearing most in small moments,

A time of simple memories and fun.