As a child,
the black tarp of the old well
a magical carpet
the branches overhead
switches or wishes,
I drifted between both.
As a child,
Satan was more real than Santa
patriarchs dressed all in red
appearing in my head or under my bed
flashlight and light switch,
I put my trust in both.
As a child,
I scribbled in the margins
highlighting the enlightening lines
rereading the verse of Shakespeare and Jesus,
which both held truth.
As a child,
I put on gazebo shows
voice amplified by acoustic air
sisters swirling to the time,
shouting stop and then go.
As a child,
I fell in love with the library
summer reading was a feasting
books like maps to new adventure,
mooring my mind but sailing my spirit.
As a child,
I camoflaged my character
hid behind bushels of belief
played possum with my problems,
kept secrets as well as falsehoods.
As a child,
I wrote amateur poetry
wobbly words in a notebook
pride poking against privacy
considering rhyme but rejecting form.
Happy to report
some traits don’t conform to timelines.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
I get a powerful vibe from this. As in, we grow up in our silos, thinking we are strange. And it is only with the passage of time that we realise that *everyone*was strange, somehow.
Referring, of course, to Shakespeare 🤣
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What a great image, the silos of childhood. Thanks for making me feel strangely accepted. 😉
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It is absolutely true, though. I doubt any of us felt accepted/acceptable. But we turned out okay, no? Or should I just speak for myself????
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I think how I turned out is still TBD. But, yeah, we all live on the yellow submarine, now, right?
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🤣 got past theBlue Meanies.
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A powerful poem. We could all do with being a bit more childlike.
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Thank you, Hobbo. I agree.
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Reading this, with each verse I would think of a memory of childhood 😀
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great poem; so much to love; after the first verse it really kicks into gear 🙂
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Thanks, John. It’s no war and peace 😉 , but lots of childhood distortions packed in there.
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Those are my two kiddos in the photo btw. You probably guessed this.
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I was sort of wondering 🙂
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Yeah, those are my red-haired littles, sprites, mischief-makers. Besties, these two. I’m a lucky mom.
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