I remember times with my sister who
I pick berries with every summer
Juices dripping down her cheeks, as she chews
Mom said we eat like the bright red hummers.
Bright red rubber boots keep the thorns away
Who can fill their bucket first, it’s a race
By the end she’s always masked in Band-Aids
While I have nothing but a sticky face
We comb the beach for seashells still intact
Quietly to not wake the sandollars
On the sand she sees something small and black
Its spikes sharp as she painfully hollers.
Each summer we lived in our bathing suits
Fluorescent pink queens dancing down the beach