To Sharon From Other Summers

bring back summer in a hatful of strawberries
dusty feet on a dust curled road near Lake Maumelle
warm cokes out of the machine

in the fish bait store.
we will twirl again our hula hoops of blue and green
make ourselves dizzy on the carousel

slurping snow cones at the zoo
where the baby elephant adores our peanuts.
or later at the Saturday matinees with popcorn money

dream we are Pollyana.
we'll splash in our plastic swimming pool

and zip right down the slip n slide
and come inside when Grandmother says
mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun.

we'll have so much fun remembering how it felt
to read whatever you wanted without any book report
to feel the summer like an ocean of time

that stretched before you every time on our blue bikes
when every day was an excuse for some kind of ice cream.
and Christmas seemed so far away

and you played Gershwin every day or Mozart or Scarlatti
or whatever you pleased while I barely dusted
the ivory keys absorbed in Jane Eyre

and Grandmother gave us music theory lessons or
brought back Spanish and French flash cards
in her impromptu manner, along with the eclairs.

while Grandfather said enthusiastically
re the Olivetti he carried back
from his office

girls this is the summer you learn to type

and we did, coming to the aid of our country.

mary angela douglas 25 july 2020