Walking through time
This morning I went on my daily stroll.
Only this time it was quite different:
I permitted my mind to take control
How much I knew not or to what extent.
It took me on a tour of memories.
I see a boy walking in this same place.
He hears a call, “Al...bee! ” The reverie
Had roused in him his mother’s lovely face.
He knew the purpose of her tireless call
It was almost noontime, its time to eat.
He arrived home late that day I recall
And consequently took a little heat.
She said, “Albee, it’s rude to be tardy
‘I’m Sorry’ does not ease severity.”
Just as I was about to get a smack
My mind propelled me into the future
Same boy, a bit older. As I think back
I was always getting slapped, that I’m sure.
I couldn’t understand, I'd done no wrong.
If angels roamed earth, you’re looking at one.
Again I hear her call the same singsong
Inflection. Al...bee! Al...bee time to run.
I could hear her from across the river.
There is no way I can make it back in time.
The kids chanting' run! Run Chicken liver! ”
I booked it to the bridges railway line
Crossed over, then across the open field
To where I’m walking now. I’m here! I yelled.
But my words fell on deaf ears. I’m a tot
Again. Standing atop a rail, arms stretched
Out for balance. Not too far from this spot
Where I’m now walking. The memory is etched
Indelibly in my mind. I count steps
One! Two! Buckle my shoe, three, four, close...oops
The door, Five, six pick up sticks. This I kept
Up until I slipped off the rail. Then whooped
Like an Indian, then once more I cried
Out and an echo returned repeating
Wooaheeeah! Aheeah far and wide.
Suddenly I heard a whistle blowing
A freight train on the same tracks where I stand
Better move myself from this piece of land.
The next instant found myself soaking wet.
We were all swinging naked from a rope
That hung from a trestle. I’ll not forget
The first time I let go of the towrope.
Plunging into the fast current river
That swept me downstream, desperately
Fighting the fast water that delivered
Me to shore, embarrassed and with skinned knees.
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poem by Albert Ahearn
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