Thank you! I would love to hear more about those adventures, Liz! While I think my four kids have had pretty good childhoods, I do wish they had had more chances to roam free, but in our community there are so few places that teens are welcome any more.
A captured tick in time clock to toss the sun ball over the net to play the games with friends perhaps now long gone in the bicycle wheelie tracks peeled down the lane on the race to reach home with a setting sun.
The computer ages the gray glimpses with in its wireless folds, just as long as it doesn’t crash or go the way of Dinosaurs the footprints will be held in the cloud or hard drive and if someone knows the password they can knock on the door of posterity.
I used to sit on my porch and have coffee with my garden. There were Semis that didn't seem to care about the people living on my street. Wildlife be dammed. One summer, from out of nowhere, rode a pack of boys, shirtless and happy. I worried for their safety, but they had that that freedom that comes with oblivions youth. I guess they were right. No one was ever smashed like the groundhogs and foxes on the street.
I love what you are doing with this Community Project. Brings back such good memories.
This is great project you two have going. I loved both poems. I remember growing up without bike helmets and sunscreen (I might regret that) all of today's "safety features." We somehow survived.
Summers: We were put outside in the morning. Dropped in for grilled cheese sandwiches at lunch. Then out again till nightfall. Bikes, playing hide and seek, skates, having dirt wars with whatever we dug out of a dusty alley that had been used for coal deliveries. Heaven
I loved the poem. I experienced a female version of it growing up in a small town.
Thank you! I would love to hear more about those adventures, Liz! While I think my four kids have had pretty good childhoods, I do wish they had had more chances to roam free, but in our community there are so few places that teens are welcome any more.
You're welcome! I think I'll have to write a poem in response.
Yes! I can't wait to read it!
Hi, Jason. Here is my response poem:
Children of the Sixties (puente)
Trix for breakfast, hurray!
Silly Daddy, Trix are for kids.
Careless screen door slap.
Where to go, what to do?
Boulder the size of Mount Everest
needs climbing.
Creepy house in the woods
needs investigating.
Abandoned logging road
needs exploring.
We clamber up the embankment,
skinned knees be damned.
Today is the day
we walk all the way to Canada.
~ Dare I say idyllic childhood? ~
Cowered in fear
when planes flew overhead.
Cowered in fear
when churches were set ablaze.
Watched the world weep
when a president was assassinated.
Watched the world weep
when his brother was assassinated.
Watched the world weep
when a minister was assassinated.
For the love of God, turn off that television.
The children don't need to see this.
Watched Daddy weep
when his seminarian friend was assassinated.
Jason, such a great response poem to this project. And the art on this one is stunning!! Thank you for agreeing to do this project!
Thank you for spearheading it! This poem would never have happened if it wasn't for your "I used to love".
Spot on!
Thanks!
A captured tick in time clock to toss the sun ball over the net to play the games with friends perhaps now long gone in the bicycle wheelie tracks peeled down the lane on the race to reach home with a setting sun.
Lovely
I love your poetic replies, Richard! You should collect these somewhere!
The computer ages the gray glimpses with in its wireless folds, just as long as it doesn’t crash or go the way of Dinosaurs the footprints will be held in the cloud or hard drive and if someone knows the password they can knock on the door of posterity.
I used to sit on my porch and have coffee with my garden. There were Semis that didn't seem to care about the people living on my street. Wildlife be dammed. One summer, from out of nowhere, rode a pack of boys, shirtless and happy. I worried for their safety, but they had that that freedom that comes with oblivions youth. I guess they were right. No one was ever smashed like the groundhogs and foxes on the street.
I love what you are doing with this Community Project. Brings back such good memories.
Thank you! The ignorance and hubris of youth is really something to behold. Looking back, I'm amazed at how I made it to adulthood.
I love the hourglass shape of your memories!
Thank you! I love writing hourglass poems, they're like little puzzles for my brain.
This is great project you two have going. I loved both poems. I remember growing up without bike helmets and sunscreen (I might regret that) all of today's "safety features." We somehow survived.
Thanks! It was such a different time! I am grateful that we are a bit smarter these days, but maybe we're too protective in some ways?
Summers: We were put outside in the morning. Dropped in for grilled cheese sandwiches at lunch. Then out again till nightfall. Bikes, playing hide and seek, skates, having dirt wars with whatever we dug out of a dusty alley that had been used for coal deliveries. Heaven
I loved this poem. It gave me flashbacks to summers growing up. So good.
Thanks, Jane! I still get giddy when school is out and summer is here!
Fabulous project! I can't wait to read more poems 💜🧡
Thanks! This has been a lot of fun. I really love Brian's work!
Great poem and fantastic formatting to add the extra layer of meaning.
Thanks!