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Intimate Truth 

The summer of May 1963
in a small country home
full of trees and fields 
as far as you could see.

It was a kiss of warmth that day.
We all felt that summer’s rays
spray and sway our gay play. 

I was only twelve 
running around barefooted
with my ten and nine-year-old brothers, 
as our hound dog chased us 
with a joyful, excited bark,
nipped at our ankles, playing tug of war. 

Mother stood by the door 
and yelled out to come in for lunch
from not too far. 

As we ran home, 
I stepped on a piece of shard glass;
in pain, my foot wouldn’t stop bleeding. 

Mother came out as I hobbled home. 
She washed and stopped the bleeding, 
applied antibiotic cream,
and bandaged my foot.

I learned a big lesson that day. 
Always wear shoes when I go outside.

I still have the scar that reminds me of that day,
a lesson learned. 

5/9/2023

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