POEM ABOUT MY YOUTH

 

 

THOSE  MISSOURI SUMMERS                                                                      

I remember those sultry, sweaty summers

visiting relatives in Missouri, traveling

like gypsies from one home to another,

we ‘city kids’ always eager

for the once-a-year farm adventures--

 

Riding bareback astride a coarse

horse blanket, feeling the bristly

coat of the steed chafe against our calves;

The fun and fear of feeding hogs,

mom insisting we enter the pen barefoot,

we never realizing the makeup

of the ooze beneath our feet;

 

Haphazard attempts to pluck eggs

from feisty chickens reluctant to give up

the treasure hidden within the downy nests;

Milking cows as cats begged for squirts

of cream from the sagging teats,

feeding more to felines than to the bucket;

 

Harvesting the bounty from substantial

vegetable gardens, me always consuming

more tomatoes than I gathered;

Digging up potatoes, carrots, and onions

from muddy soil, almost tasting the stew

we would feast upon that evening;

 

The enjoyment we had playing ‘scarecrow’

in the cornfield, swaying in the balmy breeze,

moaning to frighten off ravenous crows;

Learning patience while we ‘drowned worms’

eager to hook the monstrous catfish

grandpa alleged dwelled in his reedy pond.

 

The laughable screams from my sister and me

as we watched a headless chicken dash around,

then fleeing brothers armed with severed chicken claws;

Rescuing squirming kittens being dropped

through the pipe in the root cellar roof

by the same mischievous brothers.

Pursuing fireflies, always just one blink behind,

but able to capture a few each evening,

sister and I watching their glow within a jelly jar.

Our brothers smeared the insects upon

their scrawny arms to try to glow in the dark.

 

Now, today, I yearn to once again be

that carefree little girl visiting relatives in Missouri

during the sultry, sweaty summer.

by Rose Lefebvre ©