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Poem

The city workers had torn up the street,
but now were gone the weekend had arrived.
Still no break though from the sweltering heat
as walkers on the boulevard still thrived.

A sudden cloudburst dropped a foot of rain
it seemed, at least enough to fill the trench
before it left.  The water didn't drain
and soon the children raced into the drench.

Tank suits came from nowhere to the street
as children leapt into the cooling wet.
The grown ups smiled and laughed most indiscreet
and stood as far away as they could get

from splashing waves that flew over the sides
as boys kicked up the water and girls screamed.
Still no Coney Island with all the rides,
we boys jumped in and in the chaos beamed

for we had never had a swimming pool;
such wonders did escape those of our class.
But now the sky had opened for us fools;
we barely noticed water warm and passed

the afternoon as though a miracle
had come to us.  Throughout the closing day
we came to love the freedom lyrical
that God bestowed upon us just to say

we were his children, though too young to know
that blessings soon will pass.  In fact, the street
would be repaired before the falling snow
in the next week.  We would return to heat

for several weeks.  Now I don't recall
what happened in the coming, cooling clime.
I just put hands on the thrill of it all
with photos of that once upon a time.

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