Memories of summer in my teens; scattered thoughts trying to understand a puzzling world.
Our last sand castle, packed just right.
Cup turrets, a moat, bark drawbridge.
Sun burnt faces grin with artist delight.
Cool water calls out, shelter from sunlight.
My charges head for a cool dip.
A chance to apply oil, a lukewarm coke sip.
Daydream about my date tonight.
Kisses and loving by Drive-In light.
It’s 1969, our world’s a mess.
Vietnam on TV, bloody racial unrest.
Peace signs, flowers, groovy music, cool clothes.
Nothing changes the way political winds blow.
We feel young yet grown, restless, undefined.
Finding adult ways to try and unwind.
Some of our friends have come and gone.
We all wonder what we did wrong.
Looking at grown-ups, asking why?
Talking about freedom, our flag in the sky.
Only fleeting thoughts, back to teenage dreams.
Gosh, maybe Robin will give me his senior ring.
Glance at the time, gotta get kids home.
Wrap em in towels, loosen sand with a comb.
Collect babysitting money; Beatles, Stones to buy.
I try to hurry them up, one dragging behind.
Ginny is six, now a tearful redheaded doll.
“But, what will happen to our sand castle?”
Suddenly, a large wave rises; then falls.
Nothing is left in its place, nothing at all.
By Kathie Stehr
Sept. 1, 2021