Summer Days

Summer Days The apple box at a summer bazaar, raindrops in the dirt, Waiting so long to go in and pee that it made my bladder hurt. In the silence of the early morn, we listened to the corn as it grew, Then the flapping of the wings of an oriole as to the sky it flew. Sun so bright it offended the eyes, ice pop dripping down my arm, The playhouse so hot the ducklings died; we never meant them harm. Wooden sidewalks in a small Iowa town, my aunt said trolls lived there, I was so scared; I raced across, my feet nearly running on air. On a tandem bike, while crossing the tracks, the old front tire got caught And a piece of rubber snapped my leg; I just knew that I’d been shot. At the end of Gram’s drive you could see ‘Ole Miss’, blinding in the sun. And playing on the swing in Jimmy’s yard, now that was more than fun! When from the heat I grew too weary, to Grandma’s basement I’d flee; Besides the cool, the old piano was always calling for me. At the Dairy King across from the park, we could buy a cone for a dime Then sit in the swings as we licked them gone; we had no concept of time. Now the heat is too much for me and bikes I no longer ride And if I hear the buzzing of bees, it’s time to go inside. As with Christmas, summer will never be what it was back then, But it’s the stuff that makes me say, “I too remember when…” ©tlp 2009