Poem: One of Many People

 

One of Many People

by Shannon P. Laws

I have been was
a second grader in 1976
My hair was long
my skin was tan
and someone gifted
me a turquoise ring

Looking back I don’t
remember having many friends
but I was happy and free
and in love with my world

I built a comic book
reading fort in the
garage rafters of our
9th Avenue home

It was a room by itself
It had a clock radio
a small, warm lamp
cushions and blankets
for me and the cat

I read
Dynamite
MAD
Marvel and D.C.
and the spooky “Believe It Or Not” comics

I miss that girl

Puberty and the 80’s were
crouched around the corner
ready to pounce
ready to pound me into another person

It will never be 1976 again
I’ll never be that long haired girl again

 

Me, 2nd grade, cu from classroom photo

 

Dynamite, issue 25, July 1976 “Space 1999 takes off!” An American pop culture magazine for children 1974-1992

 

Poem: Treasure Box

 

Treasure Box

by Shannon P. Laws

 

Single spine of a roof
cuts the home in half

Living space on the right
three bedrooms on the left
down a long straight hall

The house is their ribcage
holds golden promises
diamond hard hope
and two children

I see the white door smudged
gray around the knob
where working hands push

Gold drapes hang on either side
of the bay window like the lungs
of my chain-smoking parents

 


 

This poem was sparked from a prompt to write about your childhood home.  What do you remember about your childhood home?  Can you see the kitchen in the morning sunlight, the living room at night, the front door, the bathroom sink?

We lived in the same home for about 16 years.  I remember everything about it.  I can see the layout in my mind.  The gold carpet in the 70’s and the new blue carpet in the 80’s, the “modern” verticle blinds hung on the sliding glass door that opened to the long narrow backyard.

The next prompt I am exploring is describing a “childhood sanctuary”.   Did you have a secret place away from the grown-ups, away from trouble that was your quiet place?  What was in it, what did you do, what did it look like, how did it make you feel to be there, and what were you hiding from?

Hope you might be inspired to write your own childhood poem or a sanctuary poem.  Happy writing!  -Shannon