Memory 5/5 (2)

Orange trees
painted white one-third
of the way up,
supposedly to keep the ants
and scorpions
from indulging.

I never believed that.

The smell of chlorine
punctured the air,
and the water evaporated within
of touching the pavement.

Running barefoot.
Black-bottom feet, impervious to the gravel

We were always barefoot.

Peanut butter sandwiches
on potato bread washed
down by bitter iced tea
soaked up the heat.

There was no such thing as “sweet” tea.

Skin so tan,
almost the same shade
as the dirt;
hair so bleached,
almost as pale
as the sun’s glare.

We never used sunscreen.

An endless 12 foot deep pool
held ultimate diving contests
from the once-blue
diving board;

goggles and water wings never forgotten.

Laying on rafts with cupholders,
blankly gazing
into the everlasting
azure sky.
We made up stories as the temperature

rose to 112 degrees.

The heat makes the day
glide through honey;
roads release
apparitions and cars

Bowie HS


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