Bluejays call with rusty clothesline voices
while squirrels chatter over territory
in the maple trees. Over the warm, soft
grass the children run, scrambling for candy
thrown with abandon from Ethel’s basket.
The folding chairs are lined up in the shade
for the older folks – when did we become
older? It seems like yesterday we ran
the three-legged race, holding onto each
other with sticky fingers and laughing
when we fell. Now we sit with paper plates
balanced on our knees and with glasses of
lemonade in the grass between our feet.
We eat together with sticky fingers
and watch our children racing in the sun.
Photo art: Alice Popkorn on Flickr