Sentimental Phone Call
Her call was a great surprise today,
we lent new time to memories we own.
Our shared emotions were in full array
talking about times that saw them grown.
Turning back to chapters of together
took us to many innocent times of play.
Memories touched us soft as a feather
and we gladly let them float us away.
We had no clue where the dirt came from
but it was soft, piled sky high and inviting.
We risked spankings leaving our rears numb
because this kind of dirty was enticing.
That our mamas did not appreciate mud pies,
did not hinder fun in climbing dirt that high.
On that day, other days, later and before,
we soaped up each other's backs in the tub,
then finger wrote letters to guess and score.
Repeatedly, parents yelled, ‘don’t forget to scrub.’
Bathing together usually meant spending the night.
We did that whenever parents said it was all right.
Our imaginations went straight to fear
when we considered THE gloomy woods.
Edging our neighborhood, it called, ‘come here.’
One day we combined courage as best we could.
To our surprise, it was a playground paradise
where we were Indians, pioneers, even spies.
~ Cinderella kissed a fella, red rover, red rover,
Simon says, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief,
kicking rocks, searching out four leaf clovers ~~
We played all the games, formed child beliefs.
We both regret curiosity about dog food taste
but it is a true memory we cannot waste.
After second grade, both families moved away.
After two years of play, our goodbye was tough.
We had a week together at age sixteen,
then at twenty-two when, again, bye was rough.
At twenty-eight, I visited as she waited at an airport.
Both quite pregnant, we caught up in a food court.
We both gave birth to a boy in the month of May.
We shared pictures and baby joy through the mail.
Those baby boys are fully grown-up men today.
So glad she called, do not want silence to prevail.
After hanging up, I felt a piercing, sentimental hurt
thinking just yesterday we had fun climbing piled dirt.
Copyright ©
CayCay Jennings
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