I was out today and heard a poem while listening to NPR. It was about a dream of one's childhood and a prayer the dream was real. While my childhood was not the most idyllic there were times I would happily repeat. This is inspired by that poem.
Back When
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Back when I was much younger
In body and mind
We lived way out in the country
Where the only people around
Were my relatives.
I had never fit in
My parents had never allowed me
To fit in
So, I learned to live alone
And, to love being alone
I would not want to re-experience
Most of the days from my childhood
Since there was little there to love
But, there are a few times
Which, somewhat, make up for it.
Spending hours sitting under
A Hazelnut bush eating ripe Hazelnuts
Finding a Paw Paw tree with ripe fruit
And gorging myself
While hoping some squirrel
Would come along to take them from me.
Times out along with my Beagle
Hunting Rabbits
Or, just being away from home
Being alone was my happy place
Did not have to accomplish anything
Thunder storms with wild wind
An rain tossing the tree limbs
About as if establishing their dominance
While I sat with a small fire
And just enjoyed the show.
I am sure it is why I am so content
On my own
I learned early in my life
Loving anything was a road to heartache
I wonder if that made it impossible for me to love
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