summer

Confession

Today, for lunch, I ate a Klondike.
Yes, the luxurious ice cream bar,
The one that is covered with chocolate,
The one that melts in your mouth
With the taste of cream, sugar, and, Uh-huh, chocolate.

It cost me two hundred and fifty calories,
Which I needed to work off on my bike,
Walking the trails in our forest,
Or shooting endless hoops in the hot summer air.

Once we each devoured three Klondikes
On the fifteen minute drive from town to the cabin.
I didn’t feel too good in my stomach
That time, but I was cooler.

Maybe it is the long
Hot summer of Texas
That compels one to such excesses,
Looking for chilly, refreshing food.

Still today, the memory of its smoothness,
Coolness,
Richness. . .
Was a magnificent way
To refrigerate a hot summer day.

Cerita M. Hewett
August 24, 2015

Cows in Summer

A pretty bovine hanging out in a green pasture

                        The wide eyed brown and white cows,
                        With their heads bowed down,
                        Drink from the little irrigation ditch.

                        Switch their tails skillfully
                        To dislodge biting black flies.

                        Extrude long strings of slobber,
                        Which look like fishing line.

                        The wisps are wafted away
                        As the summer breeze
                        Catches hold of them.

                        It hangs the silver strands on
                        Tall browning Indian tobacco weed,
                        At the edge of the water.

                        Creating a sparkling summer Christmas tree.

                                                                             Cerita M. Hewett                                                                                         July 2002 (revised 2014)