Summer Stories Poem by Joshua Bethman
Summer Stories
The old radio
rolled softly
in the kitchen
baseball voices
floating through the room
My grandfather
sat at the wooden table
coffee steaming
in an old faded mug
His hands
rough like sandpaper
from years of work
Outside
fresh cut grass
filled the air
We sat on the porch
in the quiet
His slow summer stories
drifting through the evening
like a baseball game
on the radio
that never
really
ended
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 1:35:26 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
