|
Searching For Summer Gold
by Richard DavisWe were a bucket brigade
of four entering the oven
heat of a late July morning,
in search of the place
they said was loaded
with berries.
Our arms sprayed
with Off to keep
the mosquitoes away,
we walked the trackless
path of the old train track
taken up years ago, past
patches of wild pink roses
humming with hovering honeybees.
A sudden scare
as a deer bolted
from the brush
behind us,our
hearts racing
as fast as he fled.
The first rumble
of thunder hurried
our feet home where
our mothers waited
to turn our bounty
of berries into pies
that would sweeten
our summer dreams. 10/13/2008 Author's Note: I grew up and still live in a small town. As a boy I wandered the fields in July near the interstate with my friends searching for blueberries to pick for the delicious pies our mothers would make.
Posted on 10/13/2008
Copyright © 2024 Richard Davis
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/14/08 at 04:16 AM This is gold - very enjoyable. Your area sounds very much like mine - we picked huckleberries for the first time in years this summer - it was a slow, relaxing process. These are some of the traditions that are worth writing about, that endure. |
| 
