Summer Sun

Summer meant playing with cousins

Until the fireflies started to dance and glide

Soaring just beyond our small hands

And, then, sometimes reaching the end

Of a journey inside a Mason jar

Summer meant riding with the window down

In a gold Ford that was dented

Rusting and not too pretty, but sufficient

For rides through a small town

Where the square held a courthouse

Library, hardware store, barber shop

And so much more that I couldn’t see

Beneath the curly lashes that edged

My bright blue eyes

Summer meant dirt and dreams

Little things like laughter and happiness

Whispers into ears who listened

With a head held down for attention

To the details that were voiced

On the other end of vibrant emotions

Summer meant Granny’s cornfield beans

Fried okra and crooked neck squash

Delicious yellow cornbread and glasses

Of cold milk from the fridge

Where all the leftovers hung out in

Emptied butter and cool whip containers

Summer meant sunshine and laughter

Music that lasted through the night

And happiness floating

On the voices of kindness and hugs

That came from hearts

Who were so alive they actually

Breathed love from their blue veins

Summer meant ideas that were new

Fresh and moist as the dewdrop morning

Clinging to the dreams that smiled

Through thoughts of paperbacks and words

That gripped my young mind

Winding their way through my thoughts

Until I knew that all I wanted to hear

Were the miracles and fantasies

That came alive for me

Beneath the pen of some author

I knew must have hung the moon

With their brilliance and imagination

Summer bee stings and daydreams

Lifted my heart to new heights

And taught me about believing in the love

That grew surer and wiser

With the passage of each summer sun