Summer Walk on the Ryleen Road

On the Ryleen Road today, I may not wander far

I kneel down and start to play below our yellow star

I write “JB” with my nail in a hot soft splotch of tar

And stand up quick as I get wind of a coming car

I smile and wave as it speeds by not knowing who they are

And then look down at what I’ve done — will my name leave a scar?

On the Ryleen Road today I have not wandered far

I see golfers in the distance trying to save their par

I hear flies and wasps and bumblebees droning like sitars

Beside the fading wrapper of an eaten Yorkie bar

Two ladybirds are mating — isn’t life bizarre

I’ve brought them to my little niece who’s put them in a jar

On the Ryleen Road today I did not wander far