Navas Lane

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road

Onto the single lane road, I know this path by heart

A small hill, the oaks, the swing hanging in the tree

The miners lettuce, acorns nestled along the way

Fields of star thistle in the sun drenched fields

The hill crests and I pass the spot of mourning

Visions of my mother sobbing over the dead

The squirrel went right and then came back left

A fitting burial required a shovel and a school tardy

I see the tree where we hide out from the Indians

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road

Down the small hill past the thicket on the right

Adjacent a rope swing that has broken bones

I see the speed bump, where my arm fractured

A great lesson on small sticks and roller blades

The day is warm, but it will soon be very hot

We don't give it thought it's all we really know

I pass the dog kennel where two dogs live, boxers

Noses pressed to the links as they know me well

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road

A small worn path at the corner edge of the garage

Steps I have taken so many times along the way

Across the aggregate driveway and past the boat

I look left and see the tree that broke my arm first

Up the stairs final stretch to the wood front porch

Where a half smoked cigar in an ash tray on the table

The sound of a knife scraping the peanut butter jar

Two sandwiches instead of one at a picnic table

The peanut butter and banana tastes of childhood

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road

 

Nick Campos - March 2024