Poetry describing summer, modern poetry

It must be that cicada who can't stand loneliness that woke you up. You came to me from summer and walked into my world. The sky is always pale, and the white clouds and blue sky seem clear at a glance, hollowing out a person's sadness overnight.

The blazing sun, the blue sky, walking in the street in the afternoon, a stream of heat came on, with a long-lost greeting and fire-like enthusiasm, melting your heart and the ice cream in your hand. The summer wind is so capricious.

The evening breeze in early summer opens the small window of memory and blows a faint fragrance. Why do gorgeous flowers only bloom at night, and the whispers under the moon float into vague dreams and make beautiful waves?

Waiting for you, in summer, dreams can't be round forever, and the moon is gone, but our dreams are too round to meet again. Summer has been waiting for you for more than ten years. I seem to have returned to my young first love, like a monotonous cicada.