Nostalgia

[easyguy]

This is a pseudo-poem I worked up that is about the many years I spent as a child at the beach during the summers as part of a youth/young teen activities program.

 

"Nostalgia"

The taste of overly sweet, ice-cold beverages on eighty-degree days.

 

The smell of hot dogs at the food stand run by a humble gentleman, the cheap white lawn chairs and tables vacant. I was his favorite customer.

 

Back indoors playing billiards with the cool kids, blue dust on my fingers. Old chalk resting beside the new.

 

An overly-used Playstation controller and a box of jewel cases.

 

I sink into the couch to nap as the perfect summer breeze flows through the room, the front doors wide open, the laughter of children on the other side.

 

Radio is on, the latest hit played for the second time today, followed by a call-in.

 

The cute girl who I was too shy to talk to, her smile, falling hard. Her friend knew it, an uncomfortable shrug. I knew her since grade school.

 

A hike up the steep cliff by the old traintracks, afraid to grab the swingrope, but watched the others. Fresh dirt all over my shorts on the descent down.

 

The picking of fresh blackberries, some gone from the bucket before our return.

 

The sun begins to set as my father walks in to drive me home for the night. We talk on the way back, squinting even though the window shade is pulled down, gazing out into the horizon.

 

A company party on the beach grounds late into the evening, bonfire burning with fresh meat and homemade potato salad on the picnic table, the wood so very old. Not too interested in mingling.

 

And as the years passed, my time there faded. But so vivid still are the times it was my second home.