Summer Morning Memory

I remember hazy summer mornings with my brothers,
exploring the long yellow grass by the country road,
picking up garter snakes by the tips of their tails
and watching them wriggle.
I remember the rustling sound
of crickets in the dry grass….
that smell of wild flowers and freedom.

When we got hot we used to go hide out
in the shade of the forest around our cabins
and look for tiny frogs.
We’d catch them and make them swim
across our little kiddy pool
again and again until laughing
we let our magic moving toys squirm out of our hands
into the cool green grass.

Man! What I would give for a time machine,
a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a little grubby t-shirt,
being there again, a kid.
Except this time I’d bring my kids–
all 5 of them
to play with me.