Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Shades of Summer Red

photo courtesy of Poetry Jam
Fizzy cold Cherry Splash soda
if we are really lucky or
Sugary sweet red Kool Aid
bright enough to stain our lips
if it's for us
Watered down to a paler vintage
to sell for 3 cents a Dixie Cup
from the Radio Flyer wagon

Come evening the booty is exchanged 
for cherry popsicles 
from the Good Humor man
We never have the patience to save up
for the Strawberry Shortcake bars 
we really covet

Skinned knees and scraped elbows
from falling off our bikes
or from playing maul ball 
with the older kids
On occasion, a loose tooth knocked clean out
leaving a bloody hole and bragging rights

The stench of rotting crab apples
squishing under bare feet 
running across the lawn
through the sprinklers
watering  the fire red azaleas
and the bricks on the house fronts

Someone's mom pokes out her head and calls
we scatter
Like gnats being shooed away


moondustwriter said...

Gr8 summer memories of summer and more than one scrapped knee

A delightful One Shot :)

Anonymous said...

Oh,man....does this ever bring back memories! this was so well written and captured so many images from my childhood. Same neighborhood ? :)

Mary said...

Wonderful reminiscence of childhood summers. Radio flyer wagons, ah yes!

dustus said...

Enjoyed your poem very much. Much between the lines and under the surface; it also calls to mind growing up quite vividly. Loved the passage...
"The stench of rotting crab apples
squishing under bare feet
running across the lawn
through the sprinklers
watering the fire red azaleas
and the bricks on the house fronts
A beautiful passage flourishing from initial stench to that great description of the watering.

hedgewitch said...

You've got the feel of chidhood summers down--I really like how red keeps popping up in various guises--it seems the essence of summer color here and completely lives up to the title.

Pat Hatt said...

Oh this does bring back thoughts of the past
As your words ring true of what could not last
As many grow old and forget the joys
That once was had through nothing by toys

Brian Miller said...

smiles. you capture many a summer memory there...summer nights and good friends...playin til dark or whenever the parents remembered us...lots o skinned knees and elbows...good times...

pat tillett said...

LOVE this! My memory banks are now in overdrive. Summer time!
The good humor reference made me think of a post I did quite a while ago. If you have the time or inclination, here's the link...
Now that I read it again, I'm thinking it's about time for a repost...

Mark said...

It's all there! The early years.

Helen said...

Honestly! I just want to be a kid again - for one day, please?

Anonymous said...

Beautiful thoughts of a summer day.

NanU said...

Ah, summer!

Fireblossom said...

God. I remember that stuff. Now, you hardly see a kid outside in summer, and if you do, they're on a cell phone!

Anonymous said...

I too love all of the red references, from the Strawberry Shortcake to the bloody tooth gap to the azaleas. I can just taste summer in your poetry. Beautifully done!

Here is mine: Repeat Echo

darev2005 said...

Sounds like bits of my very own childhood, all right. Excellent. Thank you!

Jinksy said...

The last two lines are a delightful finish - all ready to start again at the beginning of the fun...

Dasuntoucha said...

Enjoyed reading the moments you captured here...took me back to snippets of my childhood...thank you. (^_^)

jabblog said...

What a lovely depiction of childhood summer days. Wonderful:-)

Short Poems said...

I really enjoyed your beautiful write!

Mother Poems

Brian Miller said...

i am fairly certain i commented on this before...but it sure takes me back to summer nights...

Enchanted Oak said...

Shades of cherry red! You move from a fine title through the poetry of childhood. Nicely done!

Peter Goulding said...

Very evocative and neatly tied up at the end

The Bug said...

Did you play Red Rover? Or Simon Says? These are the games your poem evokes for me - hot summer, running around, learning rules & breaking them. Sigh.