… so, I’m saving these memories for when it’s cold

That orange ball, up in the sky,
 relentlessly
 it baked the earth
 and made us sweat
 and sigh ---
 how slowly days went by …
 under it’s grip.
  
 And though, we toiled
 during the day ---
 sometimes by evening
 the heat eased away …
 and when it did
 how pleased we were
 to sit
 or snooze
 or simply be …
 content.
  
 At night,
 with windows open, wide,
 the crickets argued …
 outside.
 They chirped
 and chirped
 and wouldn’t quit …
 their bickering lulled us
 all to sleep.
  
 Life wasn’t complicated
 then --- not all.
 No cells phones to charge;
 no malls to tour.
 Mothers were home;
 dinners were grand …
 most of our stuff
 was second hand.
  
 On Saturdays ---
 Daddy was chef, for the day.
 He cooked
 hot dogs and hamburgers
 in a make-shift way …
 not on some fancy
 contraption or grill …
 just cinderblocks gathered
 and fired away!
  
 We kids, in the yard,
 were hungry as bears.
 We drank lemonade …
 in the shade …
 ‘neath some trees, in the back.
 How we ate
 and laughed;
 we thought we would bust …
 and swatted mosquitos
 when they tried to eat us!
  
 Vacations were never
 arranged or planned ---
 just spontaneous days
 with our feet in the sand.
 A place to unwind ---
 to frolic
 and sing;
 to rest and do …
 not a single thing!
  
 In some ways,
 our life was harder, then.
 Nothing came easy
 that had to be done.
 We shelled peas;
 mended trousers
 and hung the wash, out ---
 it danced on the clothesline
 if a breeze, came about.
  
 Our garden we tended
 with daily devotion ---
 but hours of work
 went into this venture.
 All that watering
 weeding
 the picking
 the bending …
 but those juicy tomatoes
 were God’s invention!
  
 Summer ---
 a time for picnics
 and strolls;
 for sun tans
 bare feet …
 and a good, garden hose.
 A time to remember
 when winter unfolds …
 so, I’m saving these memories
 for when it’s cold.
  
 - by Ruth Cronin