Eleven

Mom was pregnant when I was eleven.
Nancy cuddled her doll baby in eager expectation.
The still-birth hit her hard she tells me now.
But I was carefree, dashing across the street 
to Doreen's house to watch Mickey Mouse Club
or pre-occupied on the sidewalk for hours
keeping the hula hoop whirling on my waist.
There were memorable times with Mom:
May walks in Lilac Park; summer picnics and camping;
singing in the car on the way home.
Best of all were our Skip-a-Cross games
after the younger kids were in bed.
Yet most times I was content alone or with
my friend Alice whose tree we climbed.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s