Memories of a Backyard

I remember how the backyard used to be at home

The playground we swang on and the slide we slipped down.

The cones fell from the pines

The black walnuts smelled of limes

In the background fawns watched us.

 

And as we baked mud cakes with golden pails,

The rosebush stayed stubborn and prickly but pretty.

Pink worms swam in the mud while

The gazebo waited.

And daffodils grew at the bottom.

 

The rain swept away all of the rainbow arrays of

Chalk once engraved for the children to skip.

And the black pavement

Became a rainbow

‘Till the colors reached the grass.

 

On sunnier days the basketball court was beaten,

Pounded by tiny sneakers and dribbling balls

The backboard was janked, and

The net? Long gone.

But we didn’t need a swish.

 

I’ll never forget the red tree by the drive

That’s bark was worn from resting bikes and scooters

It was small, like us,

But the best to climb

And the color of all those glorious sunsets.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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