Summer Days with Seth

June 21, 2010
By Gabrielle123 SILVER, West Branch, Michigan
Gabrielle123 SILVER, West Branch, Michigan
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The sun was rising
just beyond the trees
in the delicate pink sky.
Cool, sweet air
swept my hair off my face.
As we ran barefoot
through the soft grass
all covered in dew,
I would complain
about how my feet were getting wet
and covered in sticky grass.
You’d tell me with a smile, “You’re such a girl.”
I’d reply, “Seth, be nice
or I’ll tell Mom!”

Way ahead of me
you’d keep on running.
I’d call to you, “Wait for me!”
You’d wait.
Once I caught up
we’d run together
until we reached the edge
of the yard
where the small creek passed through the trees,
separating our yard from the neighbor’s gravel driveway.

When we made it to the creek,
we’d just stand there for a moment,
listening to the peaceful sound
of running water,
enjoying the fresh smell
of the new day.

Then we’d climb
across the little “bridge”
that you built.
I was always afraid of falling,
since the bridge was only
a small log
suspended across the creek.
I don’t know why I was scared –
the water couldn’t have been
more than a foot deep.

Once we walked across the log
and were standing on the neighbor’s gravel driveway,
we’d kneel by the water
and catch tadpoles.
We’d just catch them
for the fun of it,
then throw them back
into the water.

As the hours of the morning
passed by
we’d sit there catching tadpoles and throwing them back in,
laughing and talking
until we heard the sound
of the neighbor’s truck
moving down the gravel driveway.
We’d hurry away,
running back across our secret little bridge
and into the safety
of our own yard,
hidden by the trees.
The neighbor wouldn’t have
minded us there
but you always told me
it was more fun
when we tried to run away
before he saw us.

We’d run back across the yard
and into the house,
the sun directly above us:
bright and blinding.
You’d always complain
about the grass –
how it was so prickly and short.
You’d say how you wished Dad would let it grow
and not mow it so often.
We’d laugh about his passion
for mowing grass
as we stepped inside the door
to the house
where Mom would tell us to wash our feet,
which were all covered in grass and mud.

We’d spend the rest of the day
waiting for the next one to come,
looking forward to all of the summer mornings ahead of us.

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