Fine Day
A fine summer day,
a Peter Pan day,
a day in the never land of youth.
Daisy wore a dress, not good for climbing.
I wore tight shorts, not so good for climbing -
yet we climbed.
Daisy was up the apple tree,
I was hung from a lower branch.
The apples were illegal
the orchard just another temptation
for exploration.
Saw her long coltish limbs
saw other unseen before things.
Apples smacks my head.
“Hey!”
Daisy laughing in my old mind.
I rub a phantom sore spot
on my bald patch.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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