Mar 6, 2009

Remember When?

My Friend,

Remember when we were little and we would dress up in everything we could find? Ballerina skirts and cowboy vest were compatible and cute when you put on your silly child smile. The hair in our faces didn’t matter when the photographs were shot, cause we were young and free.
Remember the channels and castles, bridges and lakes we made in your sandbox? Digging in the damp sand we would connect and intersect our tunnels until it was a maze of paths. We would bring the garden hose and send the current into the waterways; transforming our kingdom into a sandy swamp. Wading through it, our legs were coated, but we didn’t mind. We sprayed them with the cooling water and felt refreshed.
Think of all the trees that have our footprints there… the walnut limbs above the orange tree, the orange tree above the fence; the tree house in our backyard shade, where we would hide away. Remember that day you buried her in the pile of yellow leaves? I was looking down from the branches and we all laughed when she emerged.
Remember our days in the park so long ago, jumping off the wall like we could fly? It was our initiation to the fairy world (which we designed). Running through the grassy field and striving to earn our wings… practicing our magic skills… learning basic fairy things.
Remember our efforts to turn your bunk bed into a dolly home? One sleeping space cannot become three living rooms, but we didn’t know… and so we tried again. We carefully laid our dolls to sleep and sat on the floor instead to keep from knocking down the walls.
Remember the utter darkness of the basement when we were hidden there? We became the Jewish fugitives dreading the heavy Nazi footsteps overhead. Huddled beneath the staircase, our frantic whispers hushed each other up. But they would change to laughs when some one lit the room and we were faced with the cardboard boxes and cluttered storage space. We knew that the footsteps were only our mothers preparing lunch, their voices droned (discussing grown up things).
Remember birthdays on the beach? We carried the picnic lunch to the shore and we girls would dance with the water. Screaming at the cold, but plunging in all the same. We moved with the undulating waves; floating and somersaulting in their midst. Lunch was not harmed by the crunchy bits of sand; nor were our saturated bathing-suits… celebration and soda pop were our only cares.
Remember my mommy’s giant room where we would play hide and seek? Would you hide on the lofty shelves of the closet, or behind the hanging clothes? Or the time you slid behind the many pillows on the bed… I never would have found you. I waited for an eternity inside the blanket chest, suppressing giggles at my success. And I adjusted the shelves in the bathroom cabinet so I could hide with the lotion and shampoo. There was always room underneath the bed or even the baby crib for last minute spots… and then our time would slip away and you would leave for home.

When we were simply children…

Do you remember that?

(Dedicated to Ginny and Hannah)

Mar 4, 2009

The Way of the World

Observe the bubble in the quiet inlet of the waterway,
Wishing to be thrust into the turbulent stream.
She circles closer; concentric rings like a ladder to the unknown.

Soon the current sucks her into its midst and begins to laugh.
The caressing waves soon hush her troubled scream,
Her fears allayed as she is rocked in a floating cradle home.

Then rapidly the soothing song is shattered by a rippling snarl,
The mystery becomes her only memory,
And all is lost.

Her gentle globe is thrown over the precipice,
Engulfed, it disappears.
Her numb identity is jaded as it mingles with
The Stream.