Summertimes

Summertimes

In my mind still
           the tall trees on either side
of the stream and the weir
           over which the waters rushed
and on the bank
           where the stream widened
there were pebbles and small rocks
           that we raised above our heads
and threw with all our might
           into the clear waters
to see who could make
           the greatest splash
It was hard thirsty work
           under the bright sky
and upstream from us
           your father stood in his boots
in the shallows casting flies
           that he had tied himself

Those were the days
           when you taught me to whistle
with two fingers in my mouth
           bending my tongue
also to clasp my hands together
           as though in prayer
and to blow through my thumbs
           into the hollow to make an owl call
The innocent days of childhood
           long gone and you too gone
though there still
           in my heart and mind

John Lyons

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