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Posts Tagged ‘childhood’

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Children

are free flow

like liquid gelatin,

sparkling

splashing

filling any form.

Why must we chill them,

make them set?

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(c) 1982, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Original pencil drawing from high school,  (c) 1965

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(Poem written in 1982, re-posted from 2012)

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cats carved by Arlie

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It was your favorite book,

the one with Goldbug*

hidden in every picture.

You’d turn the pages

and find him peeking

from the window of a car

or riding in the back

of a fire truck.

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When you grew up

you had your own cars and trucks

and never failed to wave

and beep your horn

when you drove away.

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A year ago today

you left this realm

but you are not gone.

I feel you standing next to me

as I water the grape ivy.

Your wind chime rings

when the air is perfectly still.

The little wooden cats

you carved for me

change position during the night.

Something invisible

tickles my arm.

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You tell me in a dream

not to be sad

and you wave at me

from the windows of everywhere.

I wave back

and turn another page.

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©  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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* from Richard Scarry’s – Cars and Trucks and Things that Go

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Cats carved by my late son, Arlie, when he was 8 or 9.

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1957

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When I was ten

all the rides

at Disneyland

could not compare

with that first sight,

that maiden rush

across the sand,

my first kiss

of the sea.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2012)

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“Down Moon River on a Cement Slab” *

           To Barbara Pierce Morris Seibold   (1947 – 1980)

(Written for my dear friend Barb, who died in the eruption of Mt. St. Helens on May 18, 1980, along with her husband and two children. She always made me laugh, always found the humor in any situation.  This poem was given to her on her 33rd birthday, just two months before she died. It was meant to be a short biography of our long friendship, but it has become more of a memorial celebration of her short life. The last verse was added after she died.) (Added 5/2013: and now another 33 years has flown by….)

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We had a frog called Inky-Dink

until the pond went dry

and it was time

to go to school.

We threw our homework

in the mud

and laughed

Barb (on right) – we were 15.

at Mrs. Eagle-Eye.

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I slammed your finger

in the locker door,

your nail turned

black and blue.

You laughed

and drained it with a pin

that had a different

point of view.

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Then walking home

we yelled at muddy trucks

that splashed our knees

with scum,

and laughing, kicked

fresh Girl Scout cookies

down the street

to spite the crumbs.

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On Saturdays

we shopped downtown,

they couldn’t keep us

on the ground.

I lost you

on the 13th floor

but always heard you laughing

through the elevator door.

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Dick’s fries were still 11 cents

we ate them

in your green corvair

and laughed and sang

to KJR

then chased some boys

but not too far.

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Once on a dare

we broke into

the secret tunnel

beneath the school.

Our stockings snagged

on gurgling pipes

we swore the air grew hotter

but all the time

we laughed our alma mater.

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After senior finals

you threw your gym shoes

from the car.

They landed on a frowning cop

who didn’t want to celebrate.

You laughed

at the $30 fine

and went to graduate.

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One day we met

with shining rings

and home grown bellies

laughing at the years gone by.

We drove to show

a favorite teacher

how we’d learned to multiply.

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added a few months later, after Barb died in the eruption of Mt. St. Helens:

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No roadblocks ever

held you back

how could you know St. Helen’s

would have heartburn on that day?

She belched,

I felt the earth shake

when you died

and all was ash.

But somehow

from deep inside

I know you’ll have the final laugh.

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© 1979, 1980,

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*  Title comes from the time a DJ on the radio said, “And now we’re gonna float down moon river on a cement slab” as he spun the popular song “Moon River”. We laughed till we cried. (Guess you would’ve had to be there. 🙂 )

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