8 December 2009
Where I Grew Up Poem
I remember my tree fort,
Built in the skeleton of an auburn-painted cherry tree.
The secret battle plans made in the hideout
To conquer the shadowy enemies contrived.
I remember water fights in the backyard.
Being sprayed with the hose,
Our futile attempts to remain dry,
Or faked attempts to evade pursuit.
I remember racing dump trucks,
Crouching over the giant Tonkas
Speeding across the backyard
Callow disregard for hazards.
I remember my first cigarette,
Not so discretely snuck beneath the tree fort.
My fear when Dad swung open the back door
And called me into the house for a discussion.
I remember the train sets in the basement.
The many trains, the various whistles,
And interlaced tracks on the pool table.
The complex pulley system to stowaway
The tracks up into the rafters.
But most of all I remember the snow.
Building snowmen in the front yard.
The freak ice storm that cemented the snow.
The superhuman abilities enabling us to float
On top of the ice covered snow.
Riding my bike on top,
Spinning the wheels, slipping and sliding.