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The Florida of My Youth
By Franklin Price
10/12/2019

The Florida of long ago
The one when I was born
Was the one that I remember
And the one for which I mourn

Was a simple life back then
Merritt Island was my home
My youth was spent exploring
Through the orange groves I would roam

My dad worked for the Navy 
Soon to be an Air Force Base
My mother was a housewife
Was long before we went to space

My father had converted
A tractor barn into a house
It was the place in which we lived
Sometimes shared it with a mouse

That did not come from Disney
If that's maybe what you thought
There was no magic kingdom
No “E” tickets could be bought

The milkman brought the bottles
With the cream trapped at the top
Had to shake it first to use it
Then remove the cardboard stop

The rooster crowed to wake us up
There were layers in the coop
The eggs were there collected
While avoiding chicken poop

Beside the coop a wash house
Where our clothes were washed and rung
In the yard were lines to dry them
They were pinned and not just flung

The ocean breezes dried them
To provde a smell good sheet
The fresh air not polluted
My childhood days could not be beat

There was no trash collection
No large mountains of discard
We dug some holes to bury waste
That we covered in our yard

Once we dug a large hole
Which we turned into a fort
Made the roof out of a car top
Was a fun place to report

When we were finished with it
It became our newest dump
Did I forget to mention,
Our water came from well and pump

Our waste went to a septic tank
Waste field to cleanse and drain
My sisters preferred to wash their hair
With water captured from the rain

Only one school was available
Had a place for every grade
We rode the bus to get there
To go, I never was afraid

I was the youngest  of the children
Four sisters and three guys
Got on the bus together
Even school had family ties

To get there left the Island
Had to cross a wooden bridge
One more thing that I should tell you
We had no ice box, had a fridge

I could go on forever
About my early childhood time
When discipline was rendered
And there was very little crime

You can tell I am digressing
As the past flows through my brain
Maybe next time I will tell you
Of my travels on the train
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