Summer Haze

I see a woman walking
Along the lane,
Wind in her hair,
Sun on her face;
A scene in black and white,
Playing like an 8mm movie
Somewhere in the aura
That hangs like a mist 
Around me

She is not me

I see squirrels
Laughing in the branches,
Playing tag in the grass,
Calling each other names
Across the lawn,
Cautiously watching
While being watched
From the shade of a verandah
Where mothers 
And grandmothers have rested.

I have never been there.

I see summers moving in freeze-frame
Like snapshots with scalloped edges,
The scent of time lingering in a haze 
Like dust and heat
And it feels like I knew them all  
By name

I have never met them
But their blood runs pure
Through your veins.



Janet Reid
june 2008