At least once a week, I search Google Maps,
for your house and I know it’s that day
we played hooky from work, July 2012, so hot,
the neighborhood empty and us in the backyard,
you pouring lemonade, I strumming serenades,
barefoot loungers on Barco chairs, watching the world go by,
high from the satellite’s view I zoom slowly
till I enter your heart again.

© Chagall 2015