It was one of those <br />kind of afternoons <br />When ball games were heard <br />From open windows <br /> <br />And houses had porches <br />And porches had swings <br />Where voices murmured softly <br />Into velvet humidity <br /> <br />It was the most precious of things <br />In the most treasured of times <br />It was a root beer float… <br />Kind of afternoon<br /><br />David Whalen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/root-beer-float-afternoon/
