A Douglastown Summer
Blueberries pregnant in adjacent fields,
A hillside away from a tumultuous river
Changing tides with the in and out rhythm
of its lunar breathing.
Hot sun strikes the rolling hills,
Reflecting blue the summer haze,
As we lay tracing pictures within the cumulus clouds
Thoughts rising above the passage of time,
Resting here in memory's heart.
Beside the field,
Northumberland, a mall,
Meeting place for weary travelers,
Shoppers, idle chatterers too.
The span that crosses into Chatham,
Green and vast, the steel
Climbing out from shore to shore,
Concrete roads with yellow lines.
Solid, yet moving within the breeze.
We wander recklessly,
Aimlessly
Along winding dirt bike trails,
Speeding through the muck of yesterday’s rain.
Up through the woods, a speedway
And a school with jungle gyms,
Where endless summer nights are spent
Counting stars while hanging from limbs of trees.
The fair comes through in August,
Summer's last hurrah,
Setting up in fields across the way,
Where blue tendrils disguise
The sticky cotton
candy waste.
