 |
"swiped from the internet - it just made me laugh and I think it went
well with my poem which is based on true memories - although
our station wagon didn't look as crazy as this one!
(swiped from HERE - and is a fun article to read) |
Summer's Unfolding
Summer began with a burst of freedom so strong
we outran barn swallows swooping before us
as we passed through backyard, past barn,
past railroad tracks, into cornfields
and certainly old Indian trails,
bare feet still tender,
unlike calloused soles at summer's end.
Upon ponies we discovered the old quarry,
its circular descent a bit terrifying,
grateful when we reached the bottom,
boys' names and choice swear words
ricocheting off steep rocky walls.
I believe it was the little wooded area,
just past the pigs and cows (and cute farm boy)
where my lower legs brushed poison ivy,
my pony nibbled grass, me unaware
of the torturous days ahead.
Rapscallion days were interrupted
only by the annual family vacation;
I envied those who went to dude ranches,
lakeside resorts, Florida...
Mine featured an old Ford Station Wagon
packed with camping gear, dog, coolers,
and kids in the third, rear-facing seat,
(no seat belts) with windows rolled down.
Dad stopped for (timed) potty breaks
and vomiting dog, drove until dusk,
set up camp and off before sunrise.
(No lakeside dip, no playground,
no campfire s' mores)
until we reached our destination.
One year it was the Grand Canyon;
believe we stayed long enough to pose
for a family photo before promptly heading back
as I remember nothing else.
July became a bit of a blur, but I remember
one precious day as I ran down gravel driveway
to collect mail. Heard a meow,
scooped up a baby kitten, soon to be named Casper,
my dear middle and high school confidant.
Mid-day shadows grew as August lengthened,
pleas for more sugar in the Kool-Aid fell on deaf ears,
boardgames grew boring, and afternoon arguments
competed with sweltering humidity, mosquitoes, and bugs.
What signaled summer's end
were the new school clothes Mom had sewn;
sister and I pined for fashions
from JCPenny and Montgomery Ward catalog
(even Sears was preferable).
and when Mom trimmed our bangs in the kitchen
(once she really did use a bowl).
How could summer have come to an end,
when crickets still chirped and the night sky
was filled with bright stars? When Backgammon
and Crazy Eights suddenly sounded fun again?
I always wanted to Peter Pan out my bedroom window
the night before school bus stopped in front of our hayfield,
the second cutting already stacked and stored
next to the horse barn for the winter,
our feet dragging early the next morning,
almost tripping over stubbled ground,
our stiff new shoes marching us out of summer and into fall.
by Margaret Bednar, May 28, 2019
This is linked with "
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Music with Marian - Summer's End" and
"
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform".
