I have as much free time now but I'd rather not be outside in that midday heat. If I now want to enjoy the enervation the torrid summer sun visits upon me I can do so only in memories of what it was like to revel in its rays during that season of liberation. Those were the thoughts that crossed my mind late this afternoon as I sat on the shady porch, looking away from the glare to concentrate on the soft green undersides of the walnut tree's leaves, the deep shade they produced. In that shade is where I found those thoughts lingering, as though they'd been waiting for me all these years.
The sun set and turned the whole world to shade, and the breeze cooled under emerging stars, but the thoughts still linger as the crickets sing. Somewhere in my mind old moments are ensconced, like the trap door spider in its nest, waiting to leap out and take me by surprise. There are moments when I'd be glad to be devoured by time long past, but so far the past has never finished the job. Maybe it's just waiting for me to expand it. Tonight I'm wondering for how long. If it's as long as this cool breeze carries the cricket songs to my ears, I won't mind at all. After that, who knows?
This Be the Worst
by Adrian Mitchell
(after hearing that some sweet innocent thought that Philip Larkin must have written: 'They tuck you up, your mum and dad')They tuck you up, your mum and dad, They read you Peter Rabbit, too. They give you all the treats they had And add some extra, just for you. They were tucked up when they were small, (Pink perfume, blue tobacco-smoke), By those whose kiss healed any fall, Whose laughter doubled any joke. Man hands on happiness to man, It deepens like a coastal shelf. So love your parents all you can And have some cheerful kids yourself.