Pocket full of summer

I made this after thinking of a poem about summer-
It’s hot and sticky and my head’s not straight: I can barely get my eyes to concentrate without the sunglasses I left at home. As I’m walking down along my jigsaw town, with two quid to spend like I did a little kid, I stride in the breeze listening to the jangle of my keys dancing in my pocket as I march under trees which whisper and sing under the beating of the sun that drums on my skin to the rhythm of my breath. Using the time walking takes I remember sounds that summer makes
and I smile up at the sky.

I never said it was the best poem but poetry nonetheless