Childhood Summer Memories, Part VII

 

                       Wasn’t it just yesterday
                     I rolled down the grassy hill
in your backyard like a baton
while you sat at the wrought-iron
table and clapped in delight?
I’d pop right up and gallop
back to your loving arms
then do it all over again.

Wasn’t it just yesterday

I strolled through the hills,

amazed at those rolling streets
so unlike the pancake where I lived?
Faster down than up I’d run
all the way to the concrete ditch
where I played with imaginary friends
until you called me back to your loving arms.
           Yesterday is a fingerprint in my heart and soul,
             your sweet memory lives in the words I write.

@laurie kolp