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Do you remember when childhood summers seemingly stretched into forever? Endless sun-drenched days where Mother's voice was heard behind window screens, worlds partitioned, pardoned at lunch-time, banished soon after. Sometimes our gravel-hardy bare feet fleetingly crossed hayfield and tracks to river's edge, threw sticks into swift current, contemplated chances of survival if dared cross. Never did, water so dark and dirty we really weren't tempted. Scampered up bank, balanced on hot railroad irons, one dirty foot in front of the other, imagined train's whistle in the distance, bravely waited for it to round the bend. Never did, but we knew we'd have stared it down, made it come to a halt, disrupt its earnest progress toward Chicago. With hats pulled low, unrecognizable, we'd escape, make way into forest preserve whose dirt trails were narrow, grasses brushed fingertips as we scouted along old Indian trail surely forged by Blackhawk and warriors. Looked for arrowheads. Never found one, but we picked up sharp stones, pretended. When summer's sun dipped to four o'clock, we'd head home, wash hands (and feet), eat, listen to Mom and Dad share their day. Look at sister across table, know my freckles were expanding across my nose and shoulders too. Sun-kissed we were, life ripe with imagination, with youth, with forever.
by Margaret Bednar, December 14, 2018.
This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Weekend Mini-Challenge - Life is Ripe" We were asked to write a poem centered around a childhood memory which brings us joy as an adult. We could write in any style but were also asked to possibly write in prose. I did. We were asked to keep it under 131 words. Well, I did edit, but 214 words are the end result. I did implement the "Life is Ripe" motto into my poem. Hopefully, that will make amends.
11 comments:
I love all the bright you've shared with us, how the details are so vivid that we get to take part in the adventures with you--an "imagined train's whistle" can sound so real.
And yes, your ending, plus the warm wonders you let us glimpse, certainly make amends for all kinds of word-count violations, lol!
Oh yes, Margaret, I remember! Your childhood summers may have been across the ocean and in many ways different to mine, but we share so much too. I remember dirt trails and grasses brushing fingertips, stones and let’s pretend.
Those glorious endless summers, so bright with sun and warmth. I enjoyed going down those trails with you. this made me remember walking behind the plow in the field as my grandfather plowed. I have the arrow and spear heads I found in the field along with the sharp stones I too pretended were arrowheads. It seems we shared a lot of the same experiences. this was a wonderful memory.
Yes yes!💞 I remember those childhood summers with "grasses brushed fingertips," sigh.. such an incredibly beautiful memory you have painted here, Margaret!💞
This taste of summer is quite welcome in chilly December. I like how you've strung these memories together like bright beads that never lost their shine, even when so much time has passed by.
You have captured the adventure of everything so well... I too have memories of running a bit barefoot wild... my clearest such memories are close to the sea on those smooth rocks we have...
I can still feel it... but never that forever.
Sun-kissed, ripe with forever. Oh yes. Beautiful.
This sounds so much like my childhood (especially the railway track) putting small coins on the track for the engine to run over. Trying to dry our wet clothes before we got home so we wouldn't get told off. Now I want to go back there again! Beautifully writen Margaret.
Summers as a youth were like going to a magical kingdom. Even into high school they were so special. Thank you gor taking me back all those decades to my child hood... that's a very long trip, so well done Magaret! :-)
I do remember walking on railway tracks as a child. Something quite thrilling to play so close to danger. Childhood used to be about exploring real unknown territory.
This feels like my own memory, thank you for it.
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