When I see an ad that says Last chance! I know immediately it’s for something I don’t need. What I do need is to spend as much time outside as possible. Nature never stoops to such tricks. Her treasures are inexhaustible, and all are freely given. From birth, we are drawn to her. A child in her arms is a happy child.
This is written, of course, from the perspective of one who enjoys the safety and security of having a home. All of nature’s children need shelter. One lesson she teaches, though, is that not one of us needs a castle. A gold toilet is the throne of a fool.
My father in the mossy ditch,
wearing big comical floral swim trunks,
fastening a screen over the gate that lets the water
into our field, a mesh to keep the moss out,
polliwogs at his legs, crayfish in the icy
snow-melt, I must have been about
six, to guess by the way
I feel just now.
Recently Banned Literature, September 8, 2016
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Categories: Everything and Nothing, Recently Banned Literature
Tags: Childhood, Crawdads, Home, Homelessness, Memory, Moss, My Father, Our Old Farm, Poems, Poetry, The San Joaquin Valley