Summer daydreams are
rudely interrupted by
the here and the now.
by Scooj
Summer daydreams are
rudely interrupted by
the here and the now.
by Scooj
I remember the day you died
we had been playing all of us
in the garden around the house.
We squeezed in the car for a trip
oh! happy day with my cousins
I remember the day you died
I looked forward to the summers
spending time with your family
you were all like siblings to me
at least, during the holidays
I remember the day you died
we had a tumble, you and I
and our heads banged hard leaving bumps
your head small, you were only two
you shed tears and after we laughed
I remember the day you died
I left you then to stay over
with our grandparents for a while
and that was it
I wouldn’t see you again
That was the day you died
drowned alone in the swimming pool.
The call came through to my grandma
I’d never seen them cry before.
Then the sadness that never left.
I still had the bump on my head
something from you so tangible
I wanted to keep it always
but it went as I knew it would.
Many years have passed little cuz.
I can’t forget the day you died.
by Scooj
For E.K.
Interminable
rain, eroding memories
of warm summers past.
by Scooj
Summer’s memories
locked away and discarded;
face up to Winter.
by Scooj
I haven’t seen any work by this artist before or since I took this photograph. His name is Rusk (or Rusk 1 or One_rusk on Instagram), and this piece is really rather Summery, even though it was sprayed in September this year. We did actually have a nice September.

The piece didn’t last long, as nothing does at Dean Lane, but it will remain in my memory, because of its unique subject matter, and also the fact that I don’t know the artist at all. Maybe I will start spotting more of his work as I look around, I hope so.
This stubborn Summer
reluctant to relinquish
its tenuous grip.
by Scooj
.
Lingering Summer
stay a while longer and know
you are most welcome.
.
by Scooj
The lowering sun
renders the urban landscape
insignificant.
by Scooj
Twin rod tips watched with
dedication and fragile
anticipation.
by Scooj
Summer’s sickly stench
skulks in side streets all set to
assault my senses.
by Scooj