Nostalgia for Sale

Priceless...

               Photographer: Mary Ann Potter

You gave me that look, rolled your eyes…chuckling

Your connection to my heart severed wholly with a rusty hatchet

I wanted to buy that house, my house and mend it neat

The one where a young girls dreams warped and waned by day

Nostalgia for sale……ragdoll memories

 “Run to the market punkin' and get me a beer”
Cigarette perilously close to my hair
“Your mom’s after me to paint the house”
One apple, two apples, three apples, four... 

That top step was perfect for dolls, a book, a kiss, a cry

Daddy’s front stoop wisdom, forming misconceptions, but endearing nonetheless

Rodney hiding under that porch when company came…hoping for skirts

Missionaries chased down the block, caught only in the dog’s dreams

Nostalgia for sale……fading memories

“Run to Green’s for me sweetheart, I need some smokes”

Whiskey breath perilously close to my nose

“Your mom’s after me to fix the fence”

Five apples, six apples, seven apples, more...

Locks on teenagers doors kept Uncle Jacob at bay, drunken covert fumbling

Mom seemed to turn the other cheek til’ midnight knife to balls….reformed, Hallelujah

Carport posts destroyed by driving lessons and dad’s not so subtle teachers hand

Tree house porn scattered by the wind, glossy thighs on mom’s windshield, beatings

Nostalgia for sale….so sweet memories

“Run to Grant’s Teddy bear, my oxygen is out”

My first love perilously close to death

“Your mom is after me stay on the couch”

Don’t be in a rush to get out that door...

Author's Note

In these boxes we call home.

Reviews

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

When the kids are grown, the dog has passed, the love becomes creaky, our knees and backs blown...memories are all we got left. I've grown all my kids in the same house....now after 20yrs. The empty rooms still whisper. Such a sombering reflective piece...great for this overcast back porch day full with smiles and tears of nostalgia.

[roarke]

The world is wide, the boxes but mere platforms to execute any number of complex dives off of. C, I hear it but can't truly feel all of it, some, not all. Never the less, you've illustrated one outcome of creative choice, creative courage with this poem. Great understanding here.

[Crowley]

Well we can't win em all. Still grateful for the drive by, always am. Thanks man.

[sette]

and in home that is where the heart really is.. so those memories prove to be priceless no matter what

[Crowley]

Thank you so much. I am rather fond of this one. It speaks a lot to family and it’s dysfunction.