How strong I can recall
Summer’s cut grass
Damp from the thick
Southern air
We danced with plastic castles
In our arms
Dodging sprinklers
In neighbors’ yards
A child’s bliss
Ignoring calls
Of supper and setting suns
We ran on

Wet concrete
Beneath my feet
Felt like sand
And salt marsh breeze
Wandered gentle
Through my hair
Not quite a beach
But nearly there

Then quietly
The whirr of mowers
Disappeared
Summer’s white noise
Cut from my ears

We ambled home
Tired in and out
Called back by good request
Of stomach’s pleading
And light’s arrest