Summertime

We're only friends in the summertime.
When the evening light is soft and a cold drink tastes as it never does any other time of the year.
Then the words flow and the memories are made and the nights last until the morning.
When the seasons turn and the cold creeps in, silence begins to outweigh speech.
In the dark months when the outside is too cold for you and the indoors too close to share.
We're only friends in the summertime.
And I miss you the rest of the year.
But not as much as you might think.