You stand
among the awkward hollyhocks,
little breasts and big eyes,
love's machinery not yet working.
The dandelions trampled
the tall grass twisting in the wind
the lizard sulking in the sun.
You stand there
like some new flower
beautiful and ready to be picked.
This summer belongs
to the people of the world
who want each other.
The lonely have no right
to share the summer sun.
Rod McKuen.