On shelves in our basement,
My mother has put
Jars and bottles all full of stuff:
Apples and carrots and beans and peas,
Corn and ketchup—things like these.
In my memory,
I have stored
All the summer that I could hoard:
Grass and flowers and windblown trees,
Baseball and swimming and buzzing bees.
In cold and snowy wintertime,
We’ll bring back summer days:
We’ll warm our stomachs
And warm our hearts
With what we’ve stored away.