I recently took a trip Down East with family. This post was from more than a year ago. A picture drawn from strong childhood memories. I was watering plants in the backyard yesterday, including a cutting from the lilac tree in front of the house (to the right outside this picture)
I hope you enjoy the picture and poem.
Pembroke
A few half buried fieldstones are all that remain
The house is gone
The Barn and Shed…
Gone
Gone. Not forgotten
I see Nana’s house
In abandoned farmhouses
In bowed barns
In my dreams
I remember walking up the dirt road from one adventure or
another
Taking the short cut up the hill toward the house
Avoiding the old well (Not really – Sorry Mom)
The tall grass tickling my hands
was laced with animal trails
At the top of the hill
The horses were shuffling in their stalls
Anxious to get out
The shed
A large barn connecting the barn to the kitchen
A magical place to me
Could that have been Santa’s sled?
Why one barn was “the barn”
The other the “shed”
I don’t know – it just was
The geese tap at the low kitchen windows
Hoping for some of our breakfast
Grampie looks up from his coffee
Shaking his head “No” at the geese
Morning ritual complete
The geese move on
The memory remains
I wasn’t yet six and he was gone
I prefer this memory
To those from the nursing home
Back to Pembroke, Masonic Lane
Dining Room
Sloping floors
Great for marbles and Matchbox cars
Enough room for seven story baseball card forts
As much fun to take down as to build
From kitchen to bedroom
Stairs narrow and steep
There was always a chill in the air upstairs
The only source of heat radiated from downstairs (or so I
was told)
I’ve never gotten dressed and undressed indoors as quickly
Before or since
It was so quiet
You could hear yourself think
No T.V.
No Streetlights
Few cars
Lots of cats and dogs
Bald Eagles nesting by the river
The wind rattled the windows
Full of imperfections
Creating unique views and
Moonshadows on the wall
The house spoke in soft whispers and groans
As I drifted off to sleep
When my brother speaks
to his girls (Geese) and his pugs
I sometimes hear Nana’s voice.
The lilac in her dooryard has spread
To each of our homes
So has her hardy laugh
And her fierce spirit
The house is gone
So much more remains