HELLO WORLD

 

UNTITLED FOR REASONS WHICH ARE WELL KNOWN TO HER

BORDENTOWN in ROAD TRIPS

 from ROAD TRIPS, poems

BORDENTOWN

This one goes way back,

Back to the morning the doll was unboxed

And the wrapping paper was so shiny

It reflected the bend in the day.

Decades ago, the doorbell rang... 

Four eyebrows raised in arches, red lipstick

Covered many white teeth, and a kettle boiled. 

The aunts welcomed them and celebrated the 

Day they arrived on old Burlington Street.

That old storied house smelled like yesterday’s mothballs
And in the dim light the teen sensed the ghosts of ancestors 

Walking through the rooms of the house, a house that
Had many concealed rooms and probably many secrets to hide. 

But they sat in the muted foyer decorated in bland colors 

And had dark tea and sweet cakes and talked about family

And reminisced about distant relatives
Who at one place in time were so much closer

They could see each other's breath

Falling from tongues.

And then the teen climbed a very steep narrow staircase 

To a room with a low ceiling and greeted an old uncle 

Who lay in his bed covered by a white chenille worn 

Bedspread and he beckoned for her to go closer 

Because he did not even know her name.

That was not the first time the teen breathed air 

On Burlington Street. 

There was an echo from a day long ago
Of a time when the child was so young she had to hold 

Her grandmother’s hand when she left that house. 

It was a hot summer day when all was still
And everybody walked more slowly.

The quiet sounds on the street soon melted away 

As they moved closer to the corner.

They followed the sound of the happy music 

Until they were in front of
The Clara Barton School.

The old one room schoolhouse was

Surrounded by a white picket fence. 

Until that day parties were a different experience. 

On that day it was red ribbons, red balloons

And red velvet cakes that stuck to her teeth

As would, in later years, her aunts’ lipstick. 

And inside everybody was playing and dancing 

And doing little things that mattered. 

They sat on a worn bench by the window and the view

Settled in and with one gasp the intoxicating 

Memory of that party was forever set like 

Solid stone inside her. 

The hard rocks on the pavement during the walk back

Grew envious. 

A Random Story

 

Bentonia, MS

The Neighborhood, The Street, and The House

THE DRY CREEKS OF VALLEY STREAM

tbc

PURPLE CARS

 

A Town

THEN AND NOW ON DUTCH

 then:

now:

an old backyard view of a farmhouse on Dutch:

and now:

old views:

looking out to Dutch:

from the side of the house looking east: 

an old farmhouse on Dutch Broadway:

a fuller view: 

and now:

Patsy's on Dutch: 

and now, The Meadows: 

an old front door where The Meadows now stands: 

the old main house at the Wayside Home: 

and now it's Dutchgate: 

before Dutchgate:

and the VS museum: