Summertime

July 31, 1992|By Joyce S. Brown

The trouble with July

is its brevity.

After the fireworks,

a weekend at the beach,

a barbecue, a baseball

game or two, August blooms,

heavy with the aroma of

school. Children for whom

Monday and Friday are equal

catch the timeless fireflies,

poke holes in jar lids, scold

the dog for chewing up

the plastic wading pool,

help Mrs. Moore paint her porch,

Mr. Williams pick his beans.

The Kents in safari hats

for ''B'' day, rob their hives

of honey, politicians lean

into microphones, stores

stock wools, all in this small

space between school and school.

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