John Updike again.

August

The sprinkler twirls

The summer wanes,

The pavement wears

Popsicle stains.

The playground grass

Is worn to dust,

The weary swings

Creak, creak with rust.

The trees are bored

With being green.

Some people leave

The local scene.

And go to seaside

Bungalows

And take off nearly

All their clothes.

~John Updike

Encourage one another,

Donna

pictured above

Cindy, James and Janet, Donna, Sue and Jeff

I can't figure out the year.