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* When I was three years old *

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My childhood ...

A tree full-to-overflowing
Branches weighty with fruit, blossoms
Each, a sweet memory of life ... family
Summers on the lake, winters in the mountains

The loving, teaching strength of Mom
Always nurturing, caring, molding the clay with precise intent
Guiding my brother and sister and I
Our instruction and yes, loving discipline, never wavered

Nor did the joys of experience and opportunity
Blessed in ways that many were not
Yet taught to appreciate it all - that it came from hard work
Oh, dysfunction, certainly ... Dad was never around

But you see, he was the provider, and did it to perfection
Long hours and vericose veins and (always) two drinks before supper
Left alone to his liking, sternly devoted to the role
Still, it was carefree, joyous, blessed beyond measure

And how I wish - how I ACHE - for the tree to bloom again
But the limbs are now barren ... bent and broken
Blossoms, taken by the winds of passing
Fruit, long since consumed ...

And I wait ... for autumn.






~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Childhood Memories" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.

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