sw00235s-br.d3.red

Sets: set 2 -
 Birthday Ribbons - Day Three 

          "1-13-77     red"


          From the spools
          of memory,
          vignettes
                    appear:

          me with my
                     father
          in our garage
            mixing cement,
            sawing a 2-by-4,
            storing screens;
          out in our lot
            digging
                  postholes,
            trimming a bush,
                planting,
                  mowing,
                    raking,
              chopping
              a head
                off
                a chicken;
            in a rocking boat
              listlessly
              waiting
                for some
                tricked perch
                to liven us;
            in our basement--
              with 15 kids from
              the neighborhood--
                mesmerized by
              "No Indians, Please"
              & World War II news
                  flickering on
                the projector
                screen portion
                of the east wall,
              or the Lionel
                (oh, my 2 sisters
                 were also there)
              as it clattered on
              its well-governed
                            track,
              or
                --with other
                  boys only--
                      the keyhole
                  ladies
                in the frosted
                bar glasses;
          in our living room
            rollicked
            by Milton Berle,
            or sombered by a
            Graf Zeppelin stamp
              he      will sell:

          with
          my mom
          in our kitchen
            working a
            rolling pin,
            pressing
            cookie cutters
              for santas, bells,
              gingerbread men;
            drawing maps;
          on the stairs
            picking up
                  forgotten
                  toys,
            vacuuming--
              I day-
              dreaming,
              playing
              with sound--
                          yet
            that whirring
            by the moss phlox!
              the dwarf hyacinths!
              that larger
              than bumblebee!
         that--                   
              I whisper
                    to my mother
                    to quietly           
              come closer as,
                        carefully,        
                    I crouch
                    on my toes--
              that
                  ruby,
                yes, male,
                      yes, Ruby-
            throated Hummingbird,
              ah!
                  windmill
                  of the Lord!:

            with           whomever
                      snatching
                    tadpoles,
                 those
              wriggly wriggly
                  out of Hadley's
              inlet!:
            and those long
                    evening walks
              with Gary,
                        Ron,
                            Tom
                 and the radio,
              listening
              to the Braves'
                 games (through
                        crickets/
                        nighthawks/
                        revvings
                        of cars)
                   when the
                   Braves rode
                   Milwaukee's
                          hills
                       chieftain tall!

~ 
Brian A. J. Salchert