Happy Days

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Wed, 06 Jan 2016
  • 1630 reads
8 comments
 
What is it with the past attracts us – 
like metal to a magnet? Why’s it somewhere 
we never tire of revisiting...the ‘great barn’
looks so small now at Dad’s place
 
the one we helped him build –
of no interest at all to anyone else
and yet, here we are, showing 
a friend the wall the dartboard
used to be.  
 
The exact spot in the yard where a duck
we came to feed laid her eggs, and how 
we watched in wonder...warm, 
beneath a sun – never set
as each one hatched. 
 
And how, looking out upon a shawl
of pines – clothed the ridge, we recall
the day next door’s pigs ran amok 
amongst the trees
 
and it was the first time, ever,
I’d picked one up – pink and squealing 
and I was amazed at how solid it felt...not soft
and squidgy like I’d imagined.
 
And the more we reminisce the more 
comes back to us
 
like the time Dad took a swing
with a hammer at the farmhouse wall – determined
to find an inglenook fireplace hidden behind 
a black-leaded stove – discovered
the petrified carcass of a mouse, instead
 
and how Mama screamed at all the soot 
and stuff, and mess, and how
he found his fireplace in the end...
 
But no one else could give a damn – so 
they smile at us like one does to humour 
a child, and then
 
we retrace our steps lead back to the here 
and the now, somewhere looks less familiar
the nearer we get 
 
and we arrive only to reinvent ourselves
all over again...hankering
for the days when the mundane
was anything but...
 
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Philosophy
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Well, you seem to have made this 'memory film' live to the reader, anyway! I felt quite envious of the 'picking up a pig' incident. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hi there, Rhiannonsmiley

Yes...the 'pig incident' was quite something.  My sister was rather envious, too.   She has a real 'penchant for pigs'  as well.

Many thanks for reading, and I am glad you enjoyed, and if I see any more pigs I shall 'shoo' them your waysmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

A beautifully visual piece with a quaint, rural nostalgia.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

So pleased you thought so, Verasmiley   

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

With memories such as these, it's no wonder you wish to revisit. Loved this. It's made me go back over some of my own memories and review the scenes in a different light. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Bee - such a great thing to say, and I am really pleased this poem made such an impact on you.  Do revisit those memories. Who knows?  They may surprise you...pleasantlysmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Tina, I can understand your feelings on revisiting those memories, me being a great fan of times gone by. I loved the idea of the shawl of pines and the pig running amok. It must have been an amazing experience to hold one, they are funny little characters I think.

Very much enjoyed reading your recollections.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, Jenny.  So pleased you enjoyed.

Tina