Between five and six

In the summer of 1966 the sun
would bake the sweat and grime
into the innocent creases of elbows,
our delicate knees red and pebble indented.
The tickle of tender sun-kissed foliage
against my forearm and our backs
learned of the earthy smell
of hard labor under a July sun.

Our tiny fingers learned the prickly
skins of pimpled cucumber patches
smooth and mean the green cylinders
dusted and spines removed
before placing into bushel baskets,
that would line every inch
of a flat bed Ford before our day
was done.

We would climb high upon and sit
on the tops to keep them from tumbling
out the back or off the sides.

There were no child labor laws or
                                           seat belts to keep the chiggers
                            off our tender stalks.

I knew the Earth then,

considerably better than I do now

 knew the
early morning dew of it,
how it smells after the rain
or how the wind smells when
a storm is coming, and
and the dust of it
knew me,

 it knew my eyes
and my ears,
it knew the grit of it
on my teeth, and
in my hair.

Knew my childhood friends
were the wiggles of caterpillars
trapped between my fingers.

I knew the smell of factory haze

and warm Dill
in the sunburned chill of early
evening,

This is how I became acquainted with
the love of the five p.m. slant
of the weary sun at quitting time
and bubble baths, baby-doll pajamas
and the cool cotton swell of my pillow
after an honest hard day's work.

It didn't kill me,

so I therefore

 must be 

stronger now.

Reviews

[Krizito]

It didn't kill me,
so I therefore
must be
stronger now

nothing beats a good poem; but when it packs a punch of an ending like yours - then it's better.
when I was little *i would've said 'boy's, but then I'm not that old * a bunch of us would sprint outside when the rain was falling, and we'll dance without clothes or slippers - slip-on, sandals - on our feet. we'll roll in the dirt know our Sunday wear, and have our older siblings chase us all over the street and into the neighbors' homes.
you've got good imagery, and that left me thinking, reminiscing. and I think more poetry need to concern with this. yes, the world is a mess, and we're a worse-er mess; but there are the beautiful and silly, stupid parts of this life also. I choose to celebrate that....
and it won't kill me, but I will become stronger for it 😁😊😇

[Corset]

Thank you Krizito, I am so happy that this write brought back fond memories of your boyhood, which sounded very fun, thank you for sharing your happy memories with me!

[Krizito]

always a pleasure

[h d e rushin]

isn't it wonderful to assume that childhood excellence is never a precursor to adult beauty? Adult beauty is more "refined", the edges of it baked by medicine dosages , election strife and Camp fires. A child can pick a button up and hold it in it's palm all day. An adult can find a button and then race around the house trying to locate the tortured garment that lost it...Your poems invite the rugs beneath our feet to become the magic carpet's of our endless invention's.....love....dana

[Corset]

Thank you Dana, you always have the most fascinating comments!

[John]

Clear, precise, and vivid memories bring the childhood past into the immediate present. There is no nostalgia here. I find that the last line expresses a certain ambiguity, probably because of the line breaks - stronger in innocent
childhood.But that may just be my reading.

[Ken Simm.]

This is so good I want to eat it. Such memories that I could share described in such a perfect way. I know what you mean about the safety issues then and now. I know what time I would rather have. Or is everything just rose tinted in my memory?

[Nipplegrinder]

Gosh, this is so remarkable. I grew up in this time, too.

[Corset]

Thank you , it wasn't all that safer then we just didn't have as much sense. :D we worked hard and took chances, maybe we just didn't know any better :D

[KCthelastboyscout]

I assume you were smiling when you wrote this. Great writing of great memories remind me on my own personal reflections. Saturday evenings especially after a few hours of rain. Makes me feel great to be alive

[Corset]

There is something exhilarating about a nice thunderstorm :D Thank you for stepping down memory lane with me.

[grimfukle]

Excellent and vivid. It brought me right back to when I de-tassled corn as a child, walking the long a*s rows for hours on end. Very well written. Kudos.

[Corset]

it's alive!!! lol, sorry, couldn't stop myself, love your avatar and your comments, thank you!!

[grimfukle]

No problem. I love Gene Wilder and Young Frankenstein in particular.
And you are very welcome!

[Corset]

I saw that movie at the theatre when I was a child, I loved it! It was genius, and hilarious.

[Neville]

Been there done that and worn the T shirt so thin it fell off my back... What a delightfully nostalgic road trip ya took me on.... hold them baby doll pj's tho.. I'm a hard man...... Cheers Corset my fine literary friend... Neville

[Corset]

Cheers Neville! Thanks again!

[Neville]

pleasure...

[wordman]

well you painted a vivid image for sure

[Corset]

Thank you kindly Wordman, much appreciated!

[wordman]

you are welcome

[Emanuel V]

Great poem! I love the message behind it, from what I gathered while reading it.

[Corset]

Thank you Emanuel!