There was a perfect “V”
in the front yard sidewalk,
two slabs of white concrete
dug into the earth,
bordered by dirt and sod

when the summer rains hit,
we’d splash, my cousins and I,
our naked feet in the newborn pool

our clothes and skin
stained with mud and cut grass

and gramma would watch
from the safety of the front porch
or through the living room window
unpeeling, eating her lemons

as we danced
North Idaho