The heat rose that summer, as it did every year,
in thick nauseating sooty waves from red bricked
buildings, black asphalt and grey sidewalks,
the unrelenting humidity trapping us in sweat.
Brooklyn it seemed, that younger heaven,
had slipped into the Hudson and found its way
out to the great Atlantic and on to some tropic.
We so yearned for an air-conditioned escape,
cold sodas and chilled bowls of ice cream.
Cool back then could be had for the purchase of
two red tickets, one for my mom and one for me.
Only fifty-cents each for air-conditioned movie seats,
heart-throbbing honey-dreams and sugared
drops of sultry lives and deftly stirred emotions.
– Jamie Dedes
Seasons are an endless source of inspiration. There’s magic in their rotations that mark the passage of time. They bring with them traditions – the holidays and rituals – that map our travels through the year. Each season offers us different colors and scents, different qualities of air and weather. We often use the seasons as a metaphors for the stages of our lives. As with Summer in the City, we might take a look back at childhood and the activities we shared with parents and siblings. Sometimes the memories are good. Sometimes not so much. Write a poem, flash fiction or short creative nonfiction piece about a season as you experienced it in childhood. Take your time. Comments are open. If you’d like to leave a link to your piece, I’d like to read it. Good luck. Have fun with this!
© 2016, Jamie Dedes