For Ej, who asked.
In the hot afternoon, we turn on the sprinklers,
for Avery, aged 6, and Frieda from next door.
Bees hum to the clover, but at the light touch
of the first drops they lift, six bees together,
and glide in a single mission to the vegetable garden.
Avery and Frieda dance at the edge of the lawn
Wait, says Frieda, what powers do we have?
Summer, childhood, where every day is long,
blue sky, green grass, frozen bananas on an icypole stick.
Nothing is perfect in this world, not even slow time on warm days,
but the children make something of it,
more lasting than memory.