I love summertime – it brings out the kid in me. I love to be outside and enjoy the sun, from a nice shaded place to sit. But, when I was a kid, I was out and about, covering some ground around town till the sun went down. My bike was my Peterbilt, and my town became my cross-country run. I even made diesel engine and Jake Brake noises as I rode my bike everywhere. I could not wait to grow up and then really travel far in my own big rig. My dad would caution me that growing up would happen fast and then I’d wish I was a kid again. Oh, how true that is! It’s funny how men and boys spend so much time trying to be like each other instead of just enjoying where they are in life right then and there. This poem is just a daydream of a man who longs to relive his youth, as he remembers the simple summertime pleasures he enjoyed as a kid, and how he finds himself just longing to be that little boy again.
TO BE THAT BOY AGAIN
By Trevor Hardwick
Oh, what I wouldn’t give, just to be that boy again,
Who thought the world was big, and everything was slow.
Or, how I’d love to sit, on a bench down by the barber,
In the center of a little town, and watch the morning glow.
And in my busy mind, I can see the heated vapors,
Rising off the highway, at the southern edge of town.
I can hear the bells that chime, as storefront doors are opened,
And old men talking ‘bout things, that make the world go ‘round.
Up there on the wall, I see, the mercury is rising,
But I don’t mind, ‘cause I’ll go find, a creek to dip my feet.
I can picture, up the road, a girl that I’ve been eyeing,
Walkin’ and talkin’ with her friends, on my side of the street.
Hopping on my bike, I ditch the old men telling tales,
I pop a wheelie for the girls, ‘cause that’s what girls dig.
I can hear them giggle, as I blaze on by with purpose,
My rusty little bike, becomes a fancy big ole’ rig.
Glancing to the sky, I see, the sun is far from setting,
The ocean in the distance, is a summertime mirage.
Riding past the fresh-mowed grass, I breathe the smell of summer,
Drinking from a garden hose, attached to someone’s garage.
I approach the fire house, and I see the firefighters,
They open up a hydrant, and my friends all gather ‘round.
I cannot resist the chance, to play out in the water,
We’re dancing in the street, with a river on the ground.
The afternoon will find me, in the cool grass by the meadow,
In the shadow of the water tower, on the edge of town.
Drifting off to somewhere, in my young imagination,
Listening to a sweet and lonely diesel engine sound.
As evening comes, the neon sign, will flicker at the café,
And amber lights are glowing, on some out-of-towners’ rig.
I snap out of my daydream, and I see my boy beside me,
Watching out the window, and his eyes are open big.
We’re flying down the road, in a hurry to get nowhere,
And he’s content to ride along, not knowing where we’ll go.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give, just to be that boy again,
Who thought the world was big, and everything was slow.
