( In no way own this image I found it on the internet)
“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy
Fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high
Oh, your daddy’s rich and your ma is good-lookin’
So hush little baby, Don’t you cry…” –George Gershwin
The scorching sun is so hot that a thick haze dances across the pavement. The sound of fire alarms and sirens are heard in the distance. Looking down the road you can see the children playing in front of their tenement homes. For a moment these kids allow themselves to forget their poverty. To forget the worries of finances, abuse, and turmoil, for that single moment they do not have the stress of fighting to live, for an education. In that single moment they breathe a sigh of relief, and peace. Watching further you see a wrinkled old man come on to the porch of his home swaying back and forth in his rocking chair to the sounds of Coltrane playing in the background. There is pain in the face of this man, the pain from years of experience. One of the children from the street now notices the man and sits at his feet. Licking an ice cream cone, as the cream drips down the child’s face the old man takes his cloth handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the ice cream off the child’s face. The community looks to this man for guidance. This man who is without any family, without education without wealth, and yet everyone seeks his wisdom. The little boy is now sitting on the old mans lap; together they watch the child’s playmates. This is summertime in the slums; this is joy for those without much. The music of Coltrane fades and Gershwin’s “Summertime” begins and plays gently over the scene as it begins to fade from my memory. The faces of the little boy and the old man are the last to leave my mind as the final notes of music fades with them.
Until next time when we pick up with more literary talk.
I remain respectfully,
Cheyenne E. Mitchell
Cheyenne E. Mitchell 