Ode to Childhood Summers
Gone are the summers
where I stood in the
rented, falling-down orchard
picking leathery tangerines with
fuzzy white bumps. Gone are melted
ice cream nights on the unmown
lawn next to the floppy
eared golden retriever
who, when I lifted his front paws,
danced in my arms.
Gone are the older sisters in torn
jeans trading boyfriend tragedies,
fox-trotting in the kitchen.
Gone are the screeching
cicadas competing with
violin music from Ma’s
record player, the soundtrack
to a love story she never starred in.
About the Author: Meg Pokrass is the author of 10 collections of prose, including First Law of Holes: New and Selected (Dzanc Books). Recent poetry publications include Plume, Cottonmouth, Eclectica, Vox Populi, Atrium and elsewhere.
Image Credit: Jan Rembowski Summer (The allegory of summer) (1922) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 