A Memoir of Sorts

The fourth move in as many

     years leaving little

          to carry

It could have been a pro

     shop when faded

          dreams still had a pulse

Two rooms one faucet

     and a necessary

          path out back

Three people who would

     live without privacy

          and still have love

Dad displaced from the

     classroom by

          diseased feet

Growing minnows in a

     hatchery where golfers

          would have played

Mother counting and selling

     fish bait little money

          hard life honest work

Sunrise to sunset and beyond

      they worked through

          pain and sorrow with humor

My inheritance would be truthtelling

     honest dealing the

          saving grace of humor

I used a rifle my grandfather once

     swapped his warped false teeth

          for to shoot bullfrogs

I mostly kept my rebellion

     to myself and when I didn't

          dad's weakness was the paddle

I carried more books home

     from school than

          anyone except Lois Gordon

I opted out on football

     memorized Shakespeare

          recited to mother

Moments of joy

     punctuated the

          boredom

My sister was born there later

     I would claim to be an

          only child as could she

Dad's health improved they left

     the cabin mother got

          a job I left home

The log cabin long gone can't

     imagine that a single person

          has missed it

Hard times linger in memory

     good has a longer

          attention span

Valued imprint left on my psyche

     comes in handy in repacking

          my metaphorical suitcase