A Poem to Welcome Summer

grassesI recently wrote about putting up hay in the summertime. When I was little, my job was to carry a Mason jar of ice water out to the men working in the field. I can still so clearly feel the heat of the day and the cool, slick jar n my hand, ice tinkling against the glass as I tiptoed through hay stubble.

Mom filled the jar with water and ice, but wouldn’t it be Romantic if I’d actually drawn the water from the well? Ah yes, I wrote a poem about that . . .

THE WATER BEARER

In June,
when nature’s bread oven
bakes ripe heads of grass
farmers take to the fields.
After day has drunk the dew,
men mount tractors
and ride summertime roads.
I dangle from an apple tree,
growing.

At noon I am sent to the cellar
where empty jars line shelves,
glimmer in the light of an open door.
I take one brimming with damp
to the well my father dug.
Men lift my sparkling gift
to labor seasoned foreheads,
cool their heat in satisfaction
of hand-dug cellar and well.

In June,
when days are sun-sodden, I remember
nights always follow difficult days
when cicadas sing and grass roots
grow deeper.

4 thoughts on “A Poem to Welcome Summer

  1. Teresa

    Oh, those memories….LOVE the
    Poem. Remembering, similar things today…made the day bittersweet…
    Then, your Blog when I finally relaxed abit this eve…Plz Pray 🙏~
    Aunt Mary suffered a fall last week~In hospital again & we were told she’s in bad shape today.
    Expect to get a call @ any moment that Heaven gained an Angel. 😇 Sad, yes, BUT we KNOW she’s well prepared! Cannot say enough for Larry’s loving, caring support!!❤️
    I need to stop in @ SCH tomorrow
    & give him an update..☹️

    1. Dad mentioned that Mary was in the hospital after a fall–so sorry to hear that! I think he sees a lot of the folks there as his chicks under his wing, which is GOOD for him! Thanks for keeping him posted.

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