Happy Hollow Park
As a child, I climbed the rocks of this place,
followed the stream-bed as far as it would go,
explored the crevices,
looked for stones
to put in my pocket,
to remember,
The adults called our names in vain,
to return to the picnic spot
but we were gone and out of reach
exploring worlds unknown,
We climbed the hills to where they led
to a schoolyard high above the park,
We found an old abandoned car,
and looked for bones, and bodies,
We found no such thing
but felt we were in
a forbidden spot
or passageway,
Eventually, hunger called us back
to the arms of our mothers, and grandmothers,
where great aunts in their long, dark dresses
spread their food, and filled our bellies,
They spoke in Dutch of the old country,
offered to each another, tea
and stories of life in America,
Their eyes followed us, lovingly,
as this day became a memory
and they saw in us a passageway
to a brighter future.
CFBlack 8-05-2013
Tags: poetry
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