Detroit Summers

We spent sunny summer Saturdays in

our grandparent’s yard.

Squeezed into the swing

under the apple tree,

we rode

the magic carpet to adventures, barely

escaping monsters lurching towards

us down the dirt path.

“Geni of the magic carpet, go, go, go!”

We bridled our saw horses with jump

ropes and threw Nanny’s pillows

on for saddles. Our tents leaned against

the former chicken house or the

wooden slide we waxed with a candle to

smoothness. Four

generations ate lunch

next to the snowball bush on the board

and saw horse table. What

did we eat? All I remember is the pineapple

juice in metal cups, so cold and later

vanilla ice cream cones with

maraschino cherries on top.

Sometimes we splashed through the red and

green wadding pool.

Once Barbara said she saw Mershell,

our little dead uncle, looking out

of the upstairs window at us.

Later we squashed into the car, two

sisters and their five children,

riding singing home across town.

4 thoughts on “Detroit Summers

  1. I really enjoyed this piece! The imagery is so, so vivid it felt like I was right there with you (in the moment, in the memory). My favorite line is “we waxed with a candle to smoothness” and the last line!

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