Ode to the days of last summer

When sun lotion stains blemished our clothes
like some erratic form of acne.
When swimsuits saturated with chlorine
never quite dried
Heroes were born, raised, and for a moment held our gazes
only to be laid down again at summers end
These were our stories this was our life,
while sun burnt shoulders scratched against our cotton tee shirts
Chocolate Ice cream comes melted in gooey gobs onto our hands.
The smell of brand new tennis shoes on black concrete.
The boom, flash of fire works the smell of gunpowder
these are the days we remember best.