Sunday Afternoon

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Those boys of summer

With T-Shirt tans

Their sandy feet

Muddy hands

Where e’er they go

With boots or squash

Impressionist art

On linoleum gloss

Soggy shorts

Hang helter-skelter

Flags announcing

Summer swelter

Days are long

Though years are brief

As the gentle descent

Of an autumn leaf

So I hold every moment

Like a delicate thing

Dangling my heart

On that gossamer string

Wrapped tightly about

Those grubby toes

Fuzzy fingers

Dirty nose

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