Memories of August

Tired, we return

To the smell of the wet bay tree

To the dancing daddy long legs

A line of us (6 long)

By the old door

At various stages of welly removal

There were times

When the grass was long

And the days were long

And the sun dropped so slowly it felt like it was never going to leave

We ran through a meadow

And saw three hot air balloons

But now all there is rain and rainy packed lunches

And I never saw that roe deer

That the rest of them saw

I was desperate for the loo

So I missed it