“Sticks”

Summer sticks carry more weight.

They beat off the nearing Fall.

In the hands of my children,

sticks are swords, wands, guns, and marshmallow roasters.

Dry and brittle, sometimes lively and unable to be snapped.

Sticks adorn the paths of lazy summer.

Sometimes floating in a stuttering stream,

or left behind by another Quixotic Kid.

Endless days wearing soles down, and slicing the air with a ashen pole.

Poking dead squirrel carcasses,

to make sure they are dead.

Wooden truth at an arm length.

Conducting symphonies of childhood.

Drumming the lids of Rubbermaid trash barrel lids.

Tapping twigs, poking pegs, brandished branches.

Summer sticks carry more weight.

A very special thanks to A and L, for showing me the joy of finding what I once had, but somehow lost.

40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam is a ongoing project in which people have joined me for 40 days and 40 nights of on-demand poetry. They have submitted the concepts, ideas, and subjects; I’ve done the rest.