Summer Time


At a time when tall summer grass turns hard and cuts its way into my arms and legs, and chiggers crawl beneath my heavy denim jeans – I wave away the flies and honey bees that swarm about my ears and silently I curse the burning sun.  I walk along the ditch aside the blacktopped highway full of cracks and pot-holes, as I make my way to town.  I pass the ghost town filling station and the store where once I bought my soda pop!

My dad and mom would spend a penny more to buy piece of candy, and I would revel in the modern world.  All gone for now except this old and tired body – and I still make my way along the littered reservation roads, enduring taunts and laughter from the kids that once were I.


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