Airshow memories. 

That deep vibrational 

roar as the 

plane splits through 

the topaz sky, 

and I am there.

I am the child on the

sand watching the skies 

and squeeling

with delight. 

I am the teenager. 

In denim shorts 

crop top,

and wild blonde hair

that sways as I move. 

I am the adult still 

young of age, 

wishing away work 

and counting the days.

I am the day tripper,

the local, the thought 

you had gone, 

and great to see you back. 

I am the adult in a crowd 

of known faces, 

the history of kisses 

leave faint little traces. 

I am the knowing, you

are the eyes,

the moment is here

caught in time. 

The planes whizzing by, 

the crowds all roar,

Lifeguards walking the edge 

of the shore. 

I am the one, one of some,

Cider and wine sat down on the 

sand, bank holiday this was always 

our plans. The end of summer

whispers on the breeze,

the last weekend of freedom,

before the sunshine leaves. 
Karen Hayward. ©2016

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s