Staff Reports
West10/Legacy Media
Elizabeth Cunningham Pugh wrote the following poem in 1979, which the Bartlett Express published. She was an educator for Bartlett High School and served as the curriculum writer, and publisher of the Pantheon as well as being the sponsor of the writing club. Elizabeth passed away April 19, 2025. Being Historical month, we found this poem to be relevant for then and now.
Sounds of Summer
By Elizabeth Pugh
Dogs barking at horses
Kids laughing and fussing
A basketball hitting the gutter instead of the goal
And Big Wheels scratching the sidewalk early Saturday morning
A 17 year old boy whistling as he picks up a girl for a date
A 13 year old boy’s changing voice and
An 11 year old boy scuffling with his brother
A screeching from a distant fire truck
Splashing from my neighbor’s swimming pool, and
A car speeding by, obviously driven by a 16 year old who just got his license
The snapping of a baseball as it is caught in a glove, and
A small voice saying, “Mama, I stuck out.”
The ringing of the telephone
“Yes, I have an extra stick of butter. I’ll send the eggs I borrowed too.”
“Mama, I’m going to the park.”
“Yes, M’am, I’ll get the yapping dog out of the sewer,” speaks one
of Bartlett’s Finest, as he sheds his belt, shirt and gun and drops
into the man hole to rescue a 100-lb. German Shepherd.
“I hate seeing him go down there alone,” I hear myself speaking, “I’ll go,” two neighbor men say simultaneously while dropping into the manhole.
And finally the running of the retrieved dog back to his house on the corner…
Afterwards, neighbors talking and visiting in the front yard, and lawn mowing, men trimming the grass while women sweep the sidewalk. Car doors slamming once in a while.
“Mama, I stole third base.”
“Nothing’s going to make it if we don’t get soaking rain,” an elderly farmer speaks, and
A service station attendant sympathizes over the price of gas.
Thunder clouds gathering
And banjo picking from the backyard swing
Women laughing at greeting each other at the grocery store and
then slipping into complaining about the high price of staples.
Carter sounding like a preacher from the T.V.
Power failure…again.
My daughters’ bedroom door slamming once in a while, and
Later I hear Beethoven’s Fifth from her piano. Much later the
Soothing sounds of promise from the Protestant Hymns.
Sweet Silence
“Mother, can I borrow your yellow pants?”
The ringing of the telephone, again.
A Memphis State professor thanking me for bringing some children to an adolescent literature class. “They’re bright,” she says.
Flies buzzing in the kitchen window from the door being left open.
A train’s whistling as it boogies over the tracks across Lutheran toward Altruria.
A teenager on a horse creating excitement, and
A Memphis policeman swerving into the carport to pick up our kids.
Tears, from a dark-eyed 2-year-old falling down.
The cracking of the ice as pink lemonade is poured over it, and
The popping of a prime watermelon being sliced.
“What’s for supper, Mom?”
“Reckon any Vietnamese will be moving to Ellendale?”
“Are we still going to P.W.P. Saturday night?”
The ringing of the telephone
“No, I haven’t finished reading my linguistics assignment, and I haven’t even looked at dialects yet!” I tell a fellow student.
But, I remember Sunday.
The people crowding in Ellendale Baptist Church, joining hands and singing, “There’s A Sweet, Sweet Spirit in this place.” Oh?
Do I hear school bells ringing?
