lemonade remembers

perhaps it was the umbrella of broad-leafed banana trees that grew
so tall beside our little blue house with small pink fruit clusters
the delicate flowers that hung from the Loquat tree smelling sweet or
how the orange Nasturiums twisted around the yard climbing the wall

digging in that yard looking for buried treasure deep and loamy
and finding treasures stored away in the shed’s dark corners
those are the lemonade stand days and one dollar matinees
watching the fog roll out with sand crabs nipping at your feet

picnics with good hard Italian rolls, salami and blue cheese
while splashing the cold waves that hugged the sandy coast
we went to Switzer’s Road and camped under the stars
waking to a layer of dew that blanketed the ground and our faces

you took trips into the north mountains to see the snow 
she always spilled her hot chocolate, how we laughed then
singing in the car all those silly songs again, blue filled memories
we hold each other together like the glass figurines we collected

little animals that lined the shelves with ducks, and horses, and bunnies
they create the themes that parade across the pages of my tapering life
scented with L’air du Temps, ruby red kisses and pinot noir filled crystal
they now celebrate all that you gave us as the polished gifts of a simpler time