Sunday, August 11, 2002


What summer means to me
by Jimmy Anderson

I remember the sun's heat beating down on my shoulders. Hot sidewalks and asphalt streets under my bare feet. Wavy water mirages on the road ahead of me. The smell of wet mesquite in the air, signaling the arrival of a rain storm. Bathing suits rolled up in a towel, heading for the local pool. Frantic touch football games on side streets. Racing after the ice cream van. Snow cone juice on my chin. Swamp coolers whirring on rooftops.

the drowsy buzz of the cicada....

The sound was so common that you would forget it was there. Occasionally one would get nabbed by a bird and the buzz would sputter out only to be replaced by another.

The empty carcasses....hollow shells of amber, clinging to the chain link fence or a tree trunk.

I heard one today....

buzzing away in the huge maple tree by my home and it brought me back to a time when life contained no worries, no concerns. Days seemed endless and nights brought only sleep that melted into another endless day.



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