History of My Summers

Andrew "the G-man" Gregory

The Mattaponi is my favorite place

Two weeks out of every year,

I am in heaven.

Shaded by age old trees,

The screened in patched up porch

overlooks a river,

winding into a stream.

Water darker than coffee

Is more beautiful than any shade of blue I have seen.

Lily pads down the water's edge

Mark where evan and I swam and basked every August.

Wind runs down the hill,

Scraping the same worn path my feet have scuffled.

Willy the River man, who could neither float nor swim,

Often trudged up that path,

His boat tied up at the dock and his pipe

cocked like a gun out of his mouth.

This is where I met Billow,

A beer in each pocket and hand,

Who after wrecking eight cars

in a druken stupor

Is no longer allowed to ride a bicycle in King and Queen County

But Mr. Campbell is the river next to me,

Wrinkeld, on the edge of extinction because of the big cities,

And older than I can remember.