Wild Child

29 Mar
Me and Maj – circa 1960
a wild little elf
with wide-eyed wonderment
I was magically alive and frolicked

owner of a child's idyllic home 
named Cherrybrook

all by himself,
dad constructed a house 
in the late 1950s
from a dilapidated 1800s barn
our spread was situated on
eight acres of untamed sugar-bush forests
with old wagon trails crisscrossing the woods 
hung with grapevines
dad also made a lake with a dock 
to dive and fish from

filled with bluegill, catfish, and frogs
turtles, ducks, snakes, muskrat, and heron
(I loved the wildlife in my back yard)

here, nature's drama was constantly unfolding
and I ran as untamed as the land

I was possessed 
of an ancient wood-lore spirit
swiftly hopping rocks down gurgling ravines

catching crayfish and salamander barehanded

climbing trees and shaving my own spears
making my own sling from leather bootlaces

lord of my enchanted world

with my tawny German Shepherd, Major

he looked like the famous Rin-Tin-Tin
and loved a little boy half his size

lolling his slobbery tongue with a smile
he loved to chase sticks and chew them
into bits, until his gums would bleed

next to me, Maj ran, grinning at me
in our wild outdoor freedom, 
but protective as a mother bear

we were easy 

whether I pretended 
to be an Indian or cowboy or spaceman

I could be anything I fancied, and shapeshifted
while leaping along in the forest

for I was a scrubby little wood creature

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) –Limericist 2007/2021

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Posted by on March 29, 2021 in Memoir, Poetry



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