Closing the Door on Summer

The green days of summer prove themselves
To be much longer than the attention span
Of the kids running in and out of the house
Allowing flies, as fickle as children, to come in
By chance or with purpose
Once inside they buzz around the room
Like crop dusters surveying the terrain
Before finally congregating on the windows
Wishing that they could be outside again
Their annoying buzz demands my attention
But the children are oblivious to such minor irritants
And it seems as though I have told them a dozen times,
“You kids get outside and stay outside!”
But then I find myself later counseling them again
As I am reaching for the fly swatter
“Go play in the yard. Go get some sunshine. It’s a beautiful day outside”
In the yard they laugh and play and sweat
With their imaginations in high gear
They get hot and tired and thirsty
Unfortunately, children tend to have a herd mentality
So when one comes in for a drink of Kool-Aid
They all seem to come in for a drink
Letting in a new batch of flies
While the old box fan in the kitchen window
Tries to block out most of the problems of my world
With white noise and moving air,
But I can still hear the squeaking sound of the door as it opens
“Close that door!” I yell, “The flies will get in!”
I spank flies with the swatter against the windowpanes
They fall from the height of multi-story buildings to the windowsill
Some dead upon impact, they lay stiff and still
Upside down with legs in the air
Others with concussions, broken limbs and internal injuries
Their casualties begin to climb
Like the kids in the backyard trees
I almost have time to remember my own childhood,
But then I hear the familiar sound
Of the door opening once more
And a child rushes out into summer
To play and enjoy the sunny day,
A purple Kool-Aid smile on his face