[Page 1-2]

Summer kept arriving.

More than once.

 

Flicker stood
where the forest felt busy.

Light reached her early.
Sound reached her often.

 

[Page 3–4]

Green leaves flashed.
Dark leaves answered.

Cicadas buzzed and buzzed.

 

Warmth stayed close.

Everything wanted her attention.

 

[Page 5–6]

At first,
Flicker liked it.

So much happening.
So much to notice.

 

[Page 7–8]

Sound came from everywhere.

Green above her.

Green around her.

Green moving all the time.

 

[Page 9–10]

Near sounds.
Far sounds.
Sounds that crossed and stayed.

The air felt loud.

There was no space between things.

 

[Page 11–12]

Heat pressed in.

Light did not move on.

The day kept going.

 

[Page 13–14]

Flicker tried to hold it.

All of it.

She did not want to miss anything.

 

[Page 15–16]

Her branches trembled.

Leaves brushed against each other
again and again.

Green on green.

Light on green.

Shadow on green.

Nothing rested.

The forest did not quiet.

 

[Page 17–18]

THE TURNING QUIET

The Longest Day arrived.

Not balanced—
full.

 

[Page 19–20]

Sound did not soften.

It stacked.

Layer on layer.

There was no space left.

 

[Page 21–22]

The year pressed in,

Heat stayed.

Sound stayed.

Not waiting.

 

[Page 23–24]

Then—

inside her bark—

something closed.

 

[Page 25–26]

The year finished—

whether she was ready or not.

It held heat that lingered.
Noise that stayed close.
Light that did not rest.

The year fit—

too much.

 

[Page 27–28]

Flicker felt it.

 

[Page 29–30]

The forest gathered.

But the sounds did not leave her.

The warmth did not fade.

 

[Page 31–32]

Flicker did not feel proud.

She did not feel finished.

The year was still loud inside her.

 

[Page 33–34]

She stood,
wanting the world
to get smaller again.