Total Recall 70 years on

Beside Chris’s house – my friend who’s a boy,
not boyfriend – a nice distinction –
we had a den, a place safe from adults
where we could be free to live the real life
of our imaginations.

Between high garage and brown plank fence,
we stole the gap under the eaves.
We closed off the chicken run end
with boards, against the smell.
The other end we made a door
of scrap wood and chicken wire –
our entrance to another world.

A shelf to hold our treasures,
piles of bricks made seats
at a tatty thrown-out table,
our only furniture.

A sleeping platform, which nowadays
would be called a mezzanine,
cantilevered above the door,
supported on a sturdy post.
A rickety ladder propped against it was our stairway,
a pile of new-mown grass cuttings our mattress,
fragrant when laid, stinky after a week.

We cooked outside,
behind the hedge by the compost heap,
our fire a secret, so we thought:
dampers of flour and water with a stick poked through
burned on the outside, raw in the middle.
No matter, we spread them with jam
sneaked from the house,
and feasted.


Damon Dean is guest host at Poetic Bloomings asks us to recall in detail a special place from our childhood.


All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission. Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
This entry was posted in free verse, life writing, longer poems, prose poem and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Total Recall 70 years on

  1. 1sojournal says:

    Such vivid detail Viv. You have brought back memories, and given me inspiration. Aside from that, rest easy, that was the one and only time I threw them away.


    PS. Some of my childhood memories are posted at Soul’s Music


  2. Viv, you captured it! I still have my “friend boy,” as I call him, also my best friend. Of course, he’s gay, ha ha.
    The details of this speak to your precise memory as well as the fondness you had for that special place. I simply loved this piece.
    Thanks also for your comment on “concealed carry.” About the only positive is people are now afraid to use obscene gestures on the road or engage in political debate… but the second one is counterproductive to our society, in my humble… Thanks for stopping! Amy


  3. I could ‘see’ it all, Viv.


  4. Ron. says:

    A feast of memory, V. Thanks. We built crude little camps in the woods at the end of our neighborhood, too, but I don’t think I could write about them as well as you’ve done here. Salute!


  5. catterel says:

    Oh lovely! Yes, I have very similar memories – and one year, we set the field on fire!


  6. colonialist says:

    Wonderful snapshot of childhood feasts.


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