The tantalizing fragrance of chicken burgers floats off the grill,
Wafting into my nostrils.
The battered but loved plastic green table is erupting
With filled to the brim bowls
Of chips, cookies, grilled cheese, popcorn chicken, corn on the cob.
The chairs are shoved together in a haphazard formation,
The sprinklers spray jet streams of water into the air
And we run through them,
Barefoot
Tickling blades between our toes
Not a care in the world.
The air smells like summer
Like sunsets and colors and wet earth and freshly mown grass
The short apple tree stands tall
Looking up at the surrounding giants
And the tiny-toddler swing dangling from it sways in the breeze
There’s a big squishy mushroom rooted firmly in the ground
Time to find a big stick
Poke, poke, take a step back
Eyebrows raised, en garde
A step forward, poke again
We scream and run away
Then it gets darker,
Fireflies emanate glows, pulsing
On and off,
On and off,
And summer continues.