By the cottonwood trees next to the railroad tracks
Down a dirt road sits a tiny white house
Davenport on the porch with the built in smell of Grandpa’s
Copenhagen
Blue and white striped overalls
Scruff beard and a white shock of thick hair
Harmonica
Jokes and laughter and fishing poles with worms
Waiting
For a trek through the snake grass and cows to
The river
Whatever fish came back to the white house
Were a tribute to Grandpa’s patience with
Tangled lines, snags, and baiting hook after hook
Stop at the red iron hand pump for water to clean our catches
For Grandma to bread and fry
Served with sliced cucumbers from the garden
Behind the outhouse with a crescent moon cutout
For light
Those cucumbers with vinegar, sugar, salt, and thin slices of
Onion
Served on china, meals sometimes cooked on the
Woodstove
Slices of vanilla ice cream in a cantaloupe bowl
Pinochle and pinions at the kitchen table at night
Sleeping in the double bed with two sisters
Trains rattling us to slumber
Waking to coffee scents with clinking teaspoons and
low voices in the kitchen
Pictures of dogs smoking cigars and playing
Poker
The clock on the wall with the witch or
The kids, indicating stormy or sunny playtime outside
Cousins
Left-handed Ruth on my right handed side
At Thanksgiving dinners
Stealing Dutch’s cigarettes
Hearing of Rip chasing the stick and it getting stuck in his throat
Wood pile smelling of railroad, that hot-sun creosote
Poncho the Chihuahua, Grandma’s dog
The cellar door outside
Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz
Peppermint lozenges, pink, for us in a candy dish
On the corner of the buffet that now rests
In my living room, carrying the essence of
Sweet memories
Harmonica playing
You Are My Sunshine
Still makes me smile; causes a lump in my throat
Happy memories
Sixteen Year-Old summer days vacuuming and doing their laundry and
Soaking in having them all to myself
Beautiful sepia Oval pictures of youth
Young
Ed and Anna
In love 60 years
No comments:
Post a Comment