Ode to Summer Days and Trite Advice
I await
to yearn for these barefooted afternoons
skinned knees
and so much sunscreen,
inflatable backyard pool
popsicle handprints
boys pissing in the tall weeds.
I attend
to the small and quotidian:
sandal straps and play sand,
training wheels,
quarter-cut sandwiches,
so many swing pushes.
I await
another meltdown,
another ice cream headache.
I await
to recall fondly
crumbs in the carpet,
stains on the sheets,
and to say to a mother
much younger than myself:
cherish all of this
which is most
uncherishable.
