On the days when the sun was our enemy,
the heat congealed
to the consistency of idleness,
the shade just a darkened oven,
forsaking baseballs and water balloons,
we did nothing and said even less,
for it wasn’t worth the effort of speaking;
we listened to the buzz of the sun
and the sizzle of our skin
and these were our summers.
The music box melodies would dance
through the heat, beckoning,
and we ran and ran until we found that
ice cream truck trudging through the heat
like its tires were melted
(and they probably were);
our salvation was shaped like
Firecrackers and Fudgecicles.
We’d race to finish it before the sun would,
trying to lick it down to the sticks;
braving brain freeze and numb tongues
we’d savor every drop of that frozen childhood
as quick as we could, but it was impossible.
No matter how fast we ate,
the sun ate faster,
and our childhood always
melted into our hands.
Logan Scott Jones lives and writes in Norcross, Georgia. He has previously been published in Flutter Poetry Journal and North Central.
7 Responses to “SUMMER HEAT • by Logan Scott Jones”
Comments
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June 21st, 2009 at 2:12 am
I don’t see how this could be improved. I especially like how you wrote “…our childhood always/ melted into our hands.” A lesser poet would likely have said, “melted through our fingers” and gone; you have the “…childhood always/melted into our hands” as if to say, “It was still there, still in our hands, still ours–just changed to a different form and what would we do with it?
June 21st, 2009 at 6:24 am
I found this piece very interesting and well done. Maybe the phrase “brain freeze” over-exaggerated and therefore jarring. I read it a few times just to enjoy the come-and-see visit with that deep south deprived-of-sports childhood. Thanks for the enlightening vision. I guess that’s how board and table games got such a head start down south.
June 21st, 2009 at 7:11 am
Oh yes, I liked it. Great ending.
June 21st, 2009 at 4:14 pm
Can feel it, see it, taste it — a sweet, nostalgic trip — lovely job!
June 21st, 2009 at 7:25 pm
More nostalga!
Excellent wrap by the way.
Funnily enough, this felt very British.
Loved it.
5.
(Er, anyone want to vote on the poem I’ve written above)
June 22nd, 2009 at 7:20 am
Paul Freeman – I voted this piece of writing high because its out of the writer’s actual experience,self, and not just a vehicle for distorting others’. To me, thats 85%. I usually don’t “vote” (rate) with numbers, but I’m breaking down. Sometimes a poem seems to me written with such facility that I think “This guys great, so room to try a little harder. Actually I think number ratings are silly. I also noticed this poem was written in English.
So where’s ya pome?
July 31st, 2009 at 7:28 pm
I liked this one too. Brought back nostalgic memories without being sentimental or syrupy.