Childhood

I can smell the damp pale light warming the earth

In between the ocean and towering mountains

My childhood home

was a wild place

With mud that would sink you to the knee, hidden

by deceptive moss covering

My childhood days:

surreal, in the body and in the brain

So that now I cannot remember the times

or the days or the events most children hold onto into adulthood

but only the smells, the sounds, the way it felt

to run with bare feet on soft ground and climb jungle trees

to swing like an animal, lost in the rhythm of being out of breath

and alone

wordless

in a vast landscape the color of envy and greed

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2 thoughts on “Childhood

  1. Beautiful! I was just remembering how it felt when in the spring of 1933 when walking to school and just out of sight of our mother, we would undo our garters and roll our long lisle stockings into a fat roll around our skinny ankles….and later in the summer going barefoot………those sensations were so much more keen than they are now. I guess that’s what familiarity does…it dulls the senses somewhat. Or maybe we don’t pay such close attention.

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