summertime and picking corn, the sound of it snapping off the stack
and plopping into a basket, a forest of corn towers overhead,
running through the field and fear when separated from momma
not knowing which way leads to home. a little garden next to the field,
lettuce and carrots, tomatoes and onions picked for suppertime.
playing in the yard, sneaking past the gate to the neighbors or
walking down the road as momma steals away under a fence to
grabs some pears that we feast upon, skipping home and singing.
the other girls down the road who grew watermelon and pumpkins,
the homemade pie, autumn’s chill and starting school for the first time.
running home, straight to the backyard for a snack of Macintosh
and watching the sunflowers’ dance, smiling at the sun. the strange
men come to “steal” our potatoes for market. a warm collie
friend to play chase and wrestle with. the warmness of the wood
paneling lining the walls, twin beds in a room with stockings hanging
from the foot boards waiting for Santa in a land covered with snow.
the ice festival, blue and beautiful, roller skating on the frozen lake.
icicles hang from the rooftop, short dark days, early bus rides to school,
snapshots of childhood, slices of memory, photographs of the mind.
– Previously published 1992