In Summer Months Gone By (poem) by David Lee Thompson on AuthorsDen

In Summer Months Gone By
by David Lee Thompson → (All Poetry by David Lee Thompson)
Saturday, June 18, 2022 Rated "G" by the Author.

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During the hot and humid summers in West Virginia, a daily trip to the store helped take up part of the day. All was well until a dog named “Ol’ Jack” came on the scene.

In Summer Months Gone By In summer months the air was hot and sticky— A bad combination for any kind o’ comfort. I trekked daily down the road to the store Like I might see somethin’ different this time. Perish the thought o' wearin’ a pair o’ brogans. No, I liked the feel o' thick dust on my feet, Mixed with my sweat and formin’ rivulets of mud. People didn’t pay any mind to kids where I lived Goin’ barefoot or havin’ dirty feet back then. Besides, I likely wouldn’t see a livin’ soul All the way down to the store and back home. Ever’ time I made a trip down the road, I’d take a step and spit . . . take a step and spit. Nobody had the habit o’ spittin’ like I did. So by the time I got down to the store, My mouth was dry like I’d been eatin’ a bowl o’ dust. But a bottle o’ orange Whistle renewed me real quick, And I’d head back up the road I had just come down. There was only one thing I was afraid of durin’ these Daily trips to the store—that was my neighbor’s dog. They called him Ol' Jack, but young or old, He was mean—at least he sounded really mean to me. I’d usually sneak by him goin’ one way or another, But I never could get past him twice in the same trip. Today was a time when good luck was hidden. Ol' Jack come runnin’ ‘round the house like he's A mad dog that's gonna eat somebody alive. I saw him stop at the other end o’ the log bridge Earl had made so none o’ his ten kids would drown, Tryin' to cross Bowen Creek when the water was high. Ol' Jack put his nose in the air and barked real vicious. Herbert Lee come runnin’ off the porch and told That dog, "Git around the house or I'll brain ye." Ol' Jack tucked his tail and went behind the house Like Herbert Lee had knocked his brains out With a clod o' dirt filled with rocks and broken glass. I took off runnin’ up the road, throwin’ dust in the air And wishin’ I had another bottle o’ orange Whistle pop To get rid o’ that big ol’ dry spot in back o' my throat, Like it hadn't been cleared out from the very start. ©️Copyright 2022 By David Lee Thompson

Reviewed by Connie Faust

Reviewed on February 17, 2023

Am I in another country? I can only read English, so I have no idea what you are saying in this poem.

Reviewed by Diana Wiles

Reviewed on June 21, 2022

You’ve created a very atmospheric piece here David…
I could feel the hot dust on my feet, and felt how the
Orange Whistle slaked my thirst…
I was there!

Great piece!

Diana…🍃

Reviewed by audrine max

Reviewed on June 18, 2022

i can imagine you going down the store and the image of you spitting at each step made me chuckle. reminded me of my childhood days walking barefoot on the sand. thank you.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

A great nostalgia piece that some of us were able to engage in. But when I was a kid it was often cold, there were puddles in the road or the grass was wetter than wading in a pond. So we kept our JCPenney black high top tennies on as we walked to the corner delicatessen on concrete sidewalks that would burn bare feet, but not as bad as the blacktop streets.

But poor and country kids, who couldn't even afford shoes, did go barefoot. But as I got my own place with carpets and linoleum and things to keep clean, my shoes came off at the door. And I grew to like going barefoot better than ever wearing shoes!

Ron