Where are the days before pumpkin spice?
Where are those hot summer days?
When we ran in sprinklers, on lawns of green
We had no care of what our thighs looked like
Or if the neighbors might see
Where are the endless afternoons?
Reading a book or three
Bike rides down safe summer lanes
Creating mud pies, grass buffets, all natural with sugar on top
Where did the days before pumpkin spice go?
Where is grandma?
Making her pies
Where is grandpa?
Fixing our bikes
Where is mommy?
Kissing scraped knee
Where is daddy?
At the BBQ cooking meat
Where did those days go? Before we knew the spice of Autumn
Kisses were innocent, if awkward
Holding hands meant nothing and everything
You were mine, at least for this week
Where are those days before pumpkin spice?
This is a dVerse prompt: title your poem with the question – where are the/they… , use the questioning within your poem, even with repetition, DO NOT ANSWER it though – the questioning is rhetorical, employ concepts of mortality, the transience of life, a sense of nostalgia.
I actually created 2 other poems before this one having not paid attention to one of the prompts so this prompt created 3 poems instead of one. lol There is an intentional duality (or more depending on how deep you want to read into it :^) ) in the poem of seasons and aging. I hope you enjoy!
Get even more when you subscribe! Don’t miss a post or more. Subscribe today
