The Day Our World Changed
I lay in bed last night thinking of
everything and nothing, as I often do.
For some reason or maybe for no reason,
I thought of playing on my slip-and-slide
when I was a little girl.
In Florida, summer lasts from April until October.
We were always looking for ways to cool off.
That memory led to another and another.
I remembered our neighborhood.
It came to life everyday with the sound of children's laughter.
Now, I often sit by my window hearing the silence of children
indoors playing video games. Safe behind locked doors.
Occasionally, the birds come out to play
or I hear a bull frog croak.
Squirrels run across our fence line searching for places to hide their treasures.
(The neighbor leaves out peanuts for them. The squirrels appreciate the gesture.)
When I was a little girl, I caught grasshoppers and lizards, but not frogs.
I didn't like frogs.
I thought of my succession of childhood bicycles.
I felt free as I zigzagged through the street
riding with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.
I haven't felt that free in a long time.
In those days, I never felt lonely.
I could always find a friend to share a secret with
right outside my door.
Our parents never thought they would send us outside to play
and never see us again.
The neighborhood was our playground.
Until the day a young boy disappeared from a shopping mall
only ten miles from my childhood home.
He was kidnapped, killed and decapitated.
I was eleven years old. Our world changed.
On my playground, shadows lurked and everyone was a stranger.
I cried when I saw the picture of the little boy
with the baseball cap and toothless grin.
My brother was the same age as that little boy. He had nightmares for a while.
I was eleven years old. Our world changed.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
for Debbie Guzzi's Fear contest
Second place finish
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment