![]() |
Some of the less appreciated joys of summer... |
| Bags sitting in the front hall Waiting to be taken to camp You make funny faces at Mom As the bus pulls out And rumbles over the road to Mount Solon The chill of air conditioning Raising goosebumps on your bare arms While your fingernails grow and grow Because there’s nowhere to go where it matters And melons and berries smile seductively in the fridge The spongy swoosh of a pink rubber ball As it sails from your hand to your brother’s outstretched fingers And the grass moist under your bare feet When you crouch as it returns to you And you fall over, laughing The beach as you first remember it Hot sand hiding sharp seashells that your little sister collects Cold, salt waves lapping playfully at your ankles As you wade deeper in, giggling and shivering The juice of a warm plum running down your chin As the sweet taste cascades into your mouth And lazy laughs and voices Floating over the still air As every family on the block eats dinner outside |