Zooming over armies of ants
with snacks on their backs,
touches of lunch lurch within
bursting bellies.

Freedoms found in the leisurely
revolutions of childhood’s first
and favorite escape are dreamt
of even after smooth cheeks have
turned with time.

Strawberry sugar stragglers fall
freely onto burnt bug bitten legs.
Chains of children with hamburger
hands grasp wildly for outstretched
French fry fingers, dripping limbs
without faces act as summertime
saviors.

Vivid veins flash fiercely against sooty
sky.  Rich rumbles from above make
mothers mouths move impish Its and
Not Its on to protecting porches as
scents of soil rise from rose rings.