Spring into Summer

I.
Someone's grilling
and it's killing me
because it's way past dinnertime
and I'm laying sod.

Smells like burgers
but it could be steak.
The fiend.
I lean on my shovel and think about
the lamb and goat we had in Texas
in the little town where people still
had Czech first names.
No one cooks that stuff up here.

II.
The kids are playing
in dirt and staying out
way past what should be their bedtime,
which is not so odd.

They hear their mom
call from up the hill.
They go down.
I chase and chase them and finally get mad
which doesn't move them all that much.
Thank goodness for this laundry tub
with three big sinks.
They don't make these anymore.

III.
I hear boys talking
low while walking by
then they light a firecracker.
Just the one, for now.

A bowl of cereal
is a good late supper.
And a beer.
In time the yard work will be done, mostly,
and we'll just cut grass and eat tomatoes.
Which makes me think of tomorrow's supper:
I'll make a steak
and try to find some early corn.

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Please let me know if you will or will not be playing hoops at St. John's this weekend. We tip off at 8:00 a.m., as usual.