SAVED

Slam!

The spring on the screen door did its job.

“Quit slamming that door,

I told you to stay outside;

just look at the flies you’ve let in…

now go find something to do!”

And there was plenty on Papa’s farm

to keep us occupied,

firecrackers, BB guns,

woods to explore, creeks to swim in,

and boundless energy to do it with.

We went to the peach orchard

where we sat on limbs to get wet

with sticky juice…

Then out to the barn to see if there was

some new discovery to be made in a

corner I hadn’t found yet.

We had to be careful of Britches,

the big appaloosa I was told

did not like kids, and was too young

to know when my leg was pulled.

Bessie, who really was mean, and had horns

was somewhere out in a back pasture,

having already given up her gallon of milk

to Mama’s strong hands.

Up in the loft, I climbed through spaces

in the stacked bales of hay to a room

we had hollowed out in its depths.

There we could peruse the lingerie

section of the Sears catalog and read

comic books. without adult interference.

About four o’clock, I’d head back

to see what was cooking for supper.

Slam!

“That does it!”

Papa handed me a flyswatter.

“Get busy, I don’t want one left

and I’ll blister your butt

next time you slam that door!”

The first ten or twelve flies were easy,

I was young and quick, and was

getting bored.

I got the BB gun.

Unloaded it.

Flies don’t seem to mind a

cold steel barrel inching up on them

from the side like they do a hand

or swatter hovering overhead…

Pull the trigger and a burst of high velocity air

sent them shooting off a table to splat

the wall on the other side. I’d probably

massacred an entire village of the little savages

before Mama realized what I was doing,

grabbed my rifle, whacked me with the broad end

of the swatter, said “Use this, you idiot...”

I was looking for survivors when one buzzed

past my ear and into the living room.

I let out a whoop and gave chase

waving the wire in my hand like a tomahawk.

I swatted at that rascal all over the room

‘till I got tired.

The big chair in the corner seemed a good place

to plan new strategies while I eyed his meanderings,

looking for a weakness. He landed on Mama's

favorite collector plate with the Jesus' face

watching the room not four feet away.

He crawled right across the Lord’s nose.

I could almost hear him shout,

“Thank you Jesus!” I sighed and

I got up and sneaked out the back door

to find my cousins.

Reviews

[Kunst]

I really enjoy the poetry of place. How we tell stories that describe them so beautifully and allow us to travel through words.

Thank you for sharing this story and allowing us all to journey with you.

[Vol]

Kunst,
I was blessed with a kind, loving, structured family where the chain of command was very well defined. At the same time, I had absolute freedom to roam the streets from the time I was five onward. I was a happy kid living under no existential threats and the fun I shared with friends and cousins is untainted by all the crazy conflicts out there today. I enjoy revisiting those times spent in the forge where I was made. I am glad you enjoyed coming along.
Vol