Poetry Exercise #16: Memory Poem

Summertime Killer

Dancing from the wasps,
On the roof she sets down every bowl with precise measure—
A mixture of soap and raw meat,
The bane of summer wasps.

And we dance on the grass away
From each other,
Glaring from a too-bright sun
With our midday summer water clothes,
Attacking with squirt guns—

“Bang. You’re dead.”