Today on Ethical ELA Leilya Pitre invites teacher poets to “walk to your place of comfort.” The idea is to take a break, rest, relax, maybe noting things that capture your attention when you’re on a walk, or maybe walking back in time, through memories, or recalling a personal revelation that occurred on a walk. Just walk, poetically.
I love walks and have written of many… today, I meander back through memory to a place of comfort.
Walking with Granddaddy
Sunday afternoon
sidewalks aren’t crowded
no rush hour traffic
clogs the street
just a few cars
stopped at the intersection
can’t walk over to Rose’s
at the corner today
to buy a toy
like my Slinky
or click-clacks,
glass amber spheres
suspended on a string
to pull back and hear
that loud CLACK CLACK,
or a powder-blue
sachet ball made of satin
decorated like a lion’s head
with blue googly eyes
and an aqua feather-tuft mane
no, Rose’s is closed today
so is the drugstore
at the end of our row
no chocolate-covered cherries
or Peppermint Patties
or those caramel creams
that you love so
no, today we walk
hand-in-hand
across the street
while cars wait
at the lights
past the fire station
round back of the
Baptist church
to the playground
you let me climb
the big sliding board
not letting go
of my hand
until I am sitting at the top
you are there
at the bottom
when the sliding stops
you push me in the swing
until my feet touch the sky
I am a bird
flying so high
until the shadow
of the steeple-cross
grows long on the grass
hand-in-hand again
I watch our feet pass
back over the pavement
crossing the street
each step measured in time
of heart-to-heart beats
—oh, how yours to mine
still talks
so long after
our Sunday walks
Granddaddy and me on his 61st birthday.
I am two and a half.
Thirty years later:
Granddaddy with my boys and me, on his 91st birthday,
a year and a half before he died.
He is gone, but never far away.
lit bits and pieces 