© 2010, 2016 by Vernon Miles Kerr
So, in the days of time gone by
The birdies sang and dusted the sky
With their feathery wings
While we kids watched and wished
That we could do the same.
We’d lay back in the clover scent
And argue about cloud pictures,
While a clock somewhere in the house
Ticked away the last seconds of summer.
And now, many summers away from there
My TV drones on, and the commercials shout
And the clock radio builds up steam
For tomorrow’s too-early rout
And the car stands like a crouching cat
Ready to spring upon the Interstate,
Where miles and miles unroll beneath the roaring tires.