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Childhood Memories

Preserving Childhood memories Those years are like dusty boxes of old books Each book classify as a quantum leap for me. My first steps that led to many things, I kept thinking of my small bottle of goat’s milk Flavored with Grenada nutmeg to tone down the taste: Perhaps after my father saw the look of disgust on my small face, After my first tastes, in comparison to the cow’s milk Lactose intolerance was the key word in those days. Little did anyone knew of it…then.. Which was worse the cod liver oil, on Sunday Morning? Or the nauseating feeling, of the repeats of the oil in one’s mouth 1950s hardly a child escaped mumps, measles, whooping cough or chicken pox. Childhood disease was most feared, especially amongst the poorest. So the old folks did whatever, it took to protect us .. I was always searching, for my next chapter, as soon as I was out of The danger zone to record, one line at a time to the simplest things such as choosing the Best pebbles, the loudest night crickets, to the most Beautiful butterfly for my collections: I think I had mention this before once I caught a snarky bird And try to cage, the poor thing, until my grandmother beg of me To let it go free, freedom for him was a squeak of happiness, I could be wrong, but I think the bird return a favor to our household… There he was picking away at the bananas on the kitchen counter, Perhaps he saw the danger, that windy morning A nearby kitchen towel was left to close to the burning stove, Freedom for him was a squeak of happiness for us on that day I must indeed say: Preserving my childhood memories, not only came from on top of that Hill But from what that bird taught me, About a kitchen window that opened with a slight squeak" freedom ?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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