All day with a hoop they played,
A simple thing. An old favourite.
Hundreds of years a favourite.
They migrate to a jump rope, as turns were taken, until a ball entered the equation and the smack as it bounced created a tune that we, grown ups, remembered well from our own childhood.
They’re grasping the last few real days of summer with hands that had capably and carelessly flung time in May away.
Sure didn’t we all imagine that the holidays would last forever?
A chill has settled on the September day, early as it is, and short sleeves have been covered by fleece lined tops.
But still they ramble about the yard, homework, lessons a hindrance, have been disregarded as autumn’s first day begins.
And they sense the change as much as each bird and mammal does, and gather up their time while they can – a harvest of play to get through the long winter day.