sound of flip flops and street traffic
we enter the trees towards the neighborhood pool
past the lush, green community garden
I look longingly. Someday....
I will have a fabulous garden plot instead of the scattered containers on the back deck
kids play in the pool
teens in skimpy suits show off on the diving board
new parents and their babies squeal in delight
all to the background symphony of cicada and crickets
while a bright-eyed half moon beams in the purplish sky
I wrangle my boys
wrap towels around their brown narrow bodies
smell the chlorine in their hair
we head back into the trees, where the fireflies have started their evening soire
breathing the fresh, cool air... squeezing every second from the night
'cause it is headed back to 105 in the marrow
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