melissaahowells
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what I had was not much
a bike that clanked when I rode but it had a blue straw basket for traveling my mother, my father, my brothers noticed me only when there was a problem I was a problem my feelings were so when I would disappear temporarily it didn't matter much the bags I packed were essential only to me flashlight, TP, pbj sandwich, thermos of milky coffee sleeping bag, OFF, latest book, drawing pad, pens, lined paper, a knife, a tomato to slice, a pre-buttered muffin they all fit in my pack and tied to the basket made up a story I got good at that 'going to a friends' then took off pedaling to the south side of town camped by the Red River scared like the Dickens fell asleep exhausted and slept almost til noon no watch to tell the time but the sun was high and then I'd rise and stretch feeling the damp ease from my body often I'd yell my Tarzan scream no one but the birds to hear me this is the part that cheered me and then it wasn't so hard to be eight years old Yes, this is a true story..mine from younger days long ago...one that I will always remember.. I was good at temporarily running away...and no one ever cared or knew. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 12;40 PM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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