Dusk at Barnyard Park

Kellie Wardman

Last summer’s baseball pants ride up
your calves, blond hairs just starting to show.
You’re crouching in the grass
like a lion, calling the pitches,
a seven-year old Yogi Berra.

I’m on the mound—fingers curled in a glove,
smelling like calfskin and sand.
A fly pop arcs over my head.
You scamper around the bases:
the ball clunks a minivan in the lot.

Rubbing your thighs with dirty palms,
you spit through your teeth.
If I didn’t call time, you’d play
until the fireflies were lighting the fields.
Hit, catch, toss: the dependability of each pitch;
the punch of the ball hitting your mitt.

The night finishes with us curled
on the couch. The back of your hair is damp.
We eat chocolate ice cream
from chipped bowls, spoons clanging.
You’re too tall to fit in my lap, but we try.

(Kellie Wardman is a Troubadour reader from Bedford, NH)

The Wooded Road

by Catherine Currie

We walked the wooded road
Just the two of us,
Leaving the world behind
To mend its many woes.

Sun shone through trees
Making light, dark patterns
On strong granite rock
And scattered wildflowers.

The road topped a hill—
Far below we saw
New Hampshire’s Pleasant Lake
Where dreams are fulfilled.

We walked a wooded road,
Just the two of us.
Beauty filled our minds,
Serenity our souls.

(Catherine Currie is a Troubadour reader from Concord, NH)

Life with the Dragonflies

by Susanna Hargreaves

This summer brought us such sweetness
I really tried to hold on
You laughed and sang
As you discovered the miracles in our yard
At twilight, we watched the dragonflies dance

This summer brought so many changes
You ran and learned to ride your bike
I saw you realize there is a greater world
And I thanked God that you’re here to share this joy
At twilight, we watched the dragonflies kiss

This summer seemed to end so suddenly
It was time to pick the last fruit from our garden
And we gathered the blooms of our sunflowers
Before I knew it, you were another year older
At twilight, we watched the dragonflies fall asleep

This summer brought us such sweetness
Yes, it was sweetness I will never forget
I know there is hope for all of us
as long as the dragonflies dance

(Susanna Hargreaves is a Troubadour reader from Hooksett, NH)

untitled

by Ed Marshall

railroad tracks
hot summer days
one by one
slipped beneath my sneakers

(Ed Marshall is a Troubadour reader from East Hampstead, NH)

Beach House

by Rose Kowaliw

Early morning walks
on the beach searching for gifts
brought in from the sea.
Breathlessly happy
barefoot we raced down towards the
wave-slapping shore.
Sunburned faces
squinting at seagulls sweeping
bright skies with their wings.
Playing ‘Go Fish’ on
the porch with creamsicle hands
when the summer rained.

(Rose Kowaliw is a Troubadour reader from Swanzey, NH)

Squam

by Ted Lambert

All around me I feel the arms
cold comfort.
The ghost of my youth
tied up in the walls.
The books, the pictures,
layers and layers of memories,
images gone by.
The spirit of those passed on
are here stronger than
anywhere else.
Night noises command my attention.
Within them I hear laughing.
I hear crying, snoring, buzzing,
Questions being asked.
Some with answers, some without.
Blood runs thick in Robin Hood.
We will be all here together
At the end.

(Ted Lambert is a Troubadour reader from Hampton, NH)