Not so much the leader of a laughing dazzled crowd, not beyond a moment anyway. And that's okay, I'd rather be the kid with busy eyes and ears in the back-back of your VW. ❤️
These poems transport me back to my 1970s childhood full of books (Mary Poppins!) blacktop playgrounds and bubble wands. Hmmmm... another word for hut? I used to wish I were an American Indian child who lived in a teepee. I tried so hard to make deerskin clothes using brown paper grocery bags. Your hut would have been my beloved teepee-- it sounds blissful.
'60s grade-schooler, '70s teen here -- sounds like we're close to the same vintage, Ann. And yes, I shared your longing to live in a teepee, though I was never enterprising enough to imagine brown-paper bags into deerskin! You'd have been welcome in my hut -- thanks for coming to read about it.
Beautiful! Fun to go back in time to moments with 10 year old and 5th grade you, moments brought vividly to life. Perfect picture you found for the bubbles poem!
I enjoyed the way your Hut poem moved from warmth to brief moment of cold and then back again to the warmth. That's how we were as kids, moving from one thing to another effortlessly, in one never ending sentence. yum
I also had a fort/hut as a kid. Mine wasn't as elaborate as yours, I was in an old, not driven anymore, truck. I and Buttons (dog) used to read and "drive" everywhere. Jeez, that was fun!
I sit here on a rainy day giving gratitude for the precipitation we so badly need. I look back at the summer that didn't seem to happen. I read your mind-bending, amazing poetry and am transported to a place I'd rather be. I can feel the hut, I am the child with the bubbles but mostly, I understand the sensation of politely, scarcely missing someone!
We don't often apply the word "introvert" to children, but ... dearly as I loved my friends, I often found myself breathing a deep sigh of relief once I'd said goodbye to them and was on my own again. It took me years to understand what that was about.
Thankfully the awareness around that is changing as we recognize there are many different ways to be. We can (hopefully) allow the children to interact in whatever way is best for them more than when we were kids.
Your poem brought me back to my childhood dairy farm days where my older brothers dug long
forts—well-just to DIG. However, they soon left-leaving me happily alone to enjoy their tunnels.
The most telling line in “Bubbles” is “you are the leader of laughing dazzled crowd—which is not
who you are”
Loved both poems and the glimpse into the little inside!
Oh how cool to have a tunnel-fort -- and pre-dug!
Not so much the leader of a laughing dazzled crowd, not beyond a moment anyway. And that's okay, I'd rather be the kid with busy eyes and ears in the back-back of your VW. ❤️
These poems transport me back to my 1970s childhood full of books (Mary Poppins!) blacktop playgrounds and bubble wands. Hmmmm... another word for hut? I used to wish I were an American Indian child who lived in a teepee. I tried so hard to make deerskin clothes using brown paper grocery bags. Your hut would have been my beloved teepee-- it sounds blissful.
'60s grade-schooler, '70s teen here -- sounds like we're close to the same vintage, Ann. And yes, I shared your longing to live in a teepee, though I was never enterprising enough to imagine brown-paper bags into deerskin! You'd have been welcome in my hut -- thanks for coming to read about it.
Beautiful! Fun to go back in time to moments with 10 year old and 5th grade you, moments brought vividly to life. Perfect picture you found for the bubbles poem!
Thanks so much, Petrina!
I enjoyed the way your Hut poem moved from warmth to brief moment of cold and then back again to the warmth. That's how we were as kids, moving from one thing to another effortlessly, in one never ending sentence. yum
Kids are fluid little creatures, bless them. Thanks for reading, Weston.
I also had a fort/hut as a kid. Mine wasn't as elaborate as yours, I was in an old, not driven anymore, truck. I and Buttons (dog) used to read and "drive" everywhere. Jeez, that was fun!
Every kid should have SOME kind of fort!
Wow those poems brought back my childhood (and my love of bubbles also!). You're so gifted Elizabeth. Thank you for sharing yourself with us.
Thanks so much for reading and remembering with me, Mary.
I sit here on a rainy day giving gratitude for the precipitation we so badly need. I look back at the summer that didn't seem to happen. I read your mind-bending, amazing poetry and am transported to a place I'd rather be. I can feel the hut, I am the child with the bubbles but mostly, I understand the sensation of politely, scarcely missing someone!
Thank you so much, Donna!
We don't often apply the word "introvert" to children, but ... dearly as I loved my friends, I often found myself breathing a deep sigh of relief once I'd said goodbye to them and was on my own again. It took me years to understand what that was about.
Thankfully the awareness around that is changing as we recognize there are many different ways to be. We can (hopefully) allow the children to interact in whatever way is best for them more than when we were kids.
Thank you for evocative Wednesday morning “re-winds” to childhood; and for taking me with you so deftly.
Thank you for coming along, Shari. ❤️