Nine o’clock Wednesday morning,
Early July:
Sun floods my grandma’s backyard,
My only world,
With a dry blue heat.
The air holds its breath
Waiting for me, age seven, to run through it,
Create ripples and waves;
Grass still cool, impossibly green,
Shaggy, overgrown, and disobedient.
Bees in yellow construction suits
Jack-hammer the blood red roses.
A wren lights down, takes a walk
Under the bushes, then takes to the sky.
My jealous eyes follow it squinting
And I knew what I wanted to be–
A bird flying
Free and open-hearted,
Visiting other worlds.
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NaPoWriMo Day 28.
Please visit this list of my poet friends who are also doing the poem-a-day challenge.
© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2012
Comments on: "Real Age" (20)
Free and open-hearted, visiting other worlds…I would love to visit the other worlds too. Nice.
Thanks, Janaki. Thanks so much for reading, any time and throughout this month.
Amazingly colorful display of a childhood moment. I got lost in it.
“Bees in yellow construction suits
Jack-hammer the blood red roses.
A wren lights down, takes a walk
Under the bushes, then takes to the sky.
My jealous eyes follow it squinting
And I knew what I wanted to be–
A bird flying
Free and open-hearted,
Visiting other worlds.”
Lovely lines!
Thank you for the nice comment, Tameka.
I love the images in this. Really nicely done!
Thanks, Lisa.
Wonderful images. I so admire poets!
PS–I see that you have a WordPress blog that won’t let me leave a link back. My blog is 10 Steps to Finding Your Happy Place (and Staying There). Nice to meet you through Blogplicity!
I echo the other comments! I have felt this in particular, but couldn’t find the words: “The air holds its breath / Waiting for me, age seven, to run through it. . . ” in “my only world. . . ” .–and the “impossibly green” “disobedient” grass–this too reminds me of myself as a child. (When I take myself out of your poem, I still admire it.)
Thank you, I appreciate the feedback from you and others. I’m learning how universal particulars can be.
This is lovely. The images transported me back to those times of childhood yearnings.
I appreciate it so much, Myna, thanks.
Not sure what my real age is, but it’s a good thing to know, and be able to express it so well
Much thanks for reading, Stu.
This truly moved me, Adrienne. I love the line “bees in yellow construction suits jack-hammer the blood red roses”. What a fantastic image! So original!
Blessings!
Blessings to you, too, Martha. Thanks for your lovely comment.
What beautiful imagery. Reading your poem I felt like flying away, free and carefree.
I’m glad, Rimly. Thanks.
I like those busy bees a jack hammering too.. but what made this for me was sneaking in “My only world” between grandma’s backyard and blue heat… very neat and subtle way to take the reader with you there…your world then..
Thanks, Doug; your comments are helpful and astute as ever,