for Twiglets #105 & #106

It’s No Surprise I Can Still Hear It

Those skyscrapers that stood tall
were heroes to us kids. Looking
down at us, laughing at our little
round faces as we shot hoops
in an over-lit tennis court.

‘Make it count, kids’, I can still hear
her voice — and she’s been dead
for more than twenty-four years.
Old Mrs dePugh and her rusty throat,
blowing her banshee-shrill PE whistle.

I saw a black and white movie last night.
Gave me cravings for double-butter popcorn.
Like, when I was a kid. Finger-sucking.
You know, before food was poisonous.
Back when skyscrapers were heroes.

 

 

Twiglet #106 No Surprise and #105 Could Not Lose

30 responses to “for Twiglets #105 & #106”

  1. I love…”her rusty throat” and …”before food was poisonous”…( so true).
    Such imagery, beautiful!

    Pat

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    1. Thank you, Pat!

      Like

  2. I love how you paint childhood… before food was poisonous… (or before we knew it is)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. What a lovely return to cherished times…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I like the connection between poisonous food and fallen-hero skyscrapers.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Frank. ☺️

      Liked by 1 person

  5. scotthastiepoet avatar
    scotthastiepoet

    Very feeling write I thought and richly written too… Very much enjoyed this – thank you…

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Those were the days of innocent fun and before food was poisonous. That is some whistling shrilling sound.

    Wishing you Happy Holidays and joyful new year !!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, and to you, too. BTW, I tried to leave a comment with your poem but I was caught in a loop of selecting buses and cars and traffic lights, and finally gave up. 😞

      Like

  7. beautiful time capsule of simpler times

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Oh, I love this – a tribute to simpler times.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. A nice little slice of life.

    Like

  10. Indeed, innocent times. Where children were allowed to be themselves and play, without having a parent fearing that their child will be hurt by doing so.

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  11. I like very much revisiting those playing fields with you. I can envision them so clearly – the poem is poignant without being nostalgic which for me means the picture is crystal clear rather than blurred.

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  12. A most tender and beautiful glimpse into simpler times ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  13. we washed our hands after playing in the dirt, the same dirt that grew wholesome safe food, the irony in your poem is eye opening. I love the final verse

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Margaret Elizabeth Bednar avatar
    Margaret Elizabeth Bednar

    Childhood – when life was full of possibilities and buttered popcorn was a treat… lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Apartments Stacked
    Twilight Life
    No Sun or
    Moon
    HeART
    Dreams
    LiVinG AGaiN…

    Like

  16. There were many things ‘back then’ we did because we didn’t know better.
    Like seatbelts. Now though I think some ‘restrictions’ are overbearing. But we live with the rules we know and those that are forced upon us.

    I hear eggs are back in favor – whole eggs, no less. Still one needs some moderation. Fun memories. I grew up in cities with tall buildings. I like my suburbia now, though.

    Like

  17. Clear vivid portrayal, levels of detail transports us.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Wonderful piece of childhood innocence, when such a thing was possible.

    Liked by 1 person

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