When I was a child…
My young hands reached for
the friendly Oak Tree in Grandmom’s yard.
Its reassuring trunk
with firm branches attached-
I latched on
as gentle breezes aided my climbing efforts.
Higher and higher I’d climb
till tree became sky.
Up there I lingered thousands of wishes.
When I was a child…
Grandmom’s yard was
my magical forest.
Squirrels were my friends.
I had a turtle named Honey
and a rabbit named Pinky.
I still remember stolen glances
from Grandmom watching me
through the window
while I played in the yard.
When I was a child…
Grandpop with his own hands
built me a skateboard-
same exact hands that planted
the friendly Oak Tree
many years earlier.
Every Sunday,
like clockwork,
I’d skate on up to the newsstand
and fetch him a paper.
When I was a child…
Grandmom told me
the doctors found a tumor in Grandpop’s head,
the size of a golf ball-
that he wouldn’t be around much longer
and soon he would die.
From that moment on
I hated golf balls.
When I was a child…
Me and Grandmom watched Grandpop wither away.