The sky has stopped crying and the air is left smelling like wet earth. A small breeze is playing its way through the trees, and even though the sky has a sweater on I still see stars.
Countless blinking stars in a place closer to my eyes. Flying around my face. Lighting up the branches over my head. Stars chasing each other and blinking to ask the other stars on dates.
Even at the end of a bad day my heart is lifted by these little lights. These little fireflies.
These stars in the trees.
Maybe summer isn’t so bad after all.