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Longbarn, Summer of "59"


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Longbarn, Summer of "59"

Bunked in "the palace",
a rickety, squeaky cabin
behind the lodge,
Johnny Mathis crooned
"Chances Are", at all hours,
from a tinny turntable.

Daytime splashes, screams,
laughter, and guests' wet,
bare feet slapping the pavement,
and my voice raised incessantly,
yelling, "No running on the deck!".
At night, the clank of pots and pans,

the clink of dirty dishes,
late-night girl talk.
"I ran like greased lightning",
mumbled by a drunk dumped
by friends onto the palace floor,
stifled giggles while sneaking
an inebriated, stumbling
teen to his lodging by moonlight.

These are the sounds
of my 18th summer.
                   ~~Judi Van Gorder


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~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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Great narrative context Judi. Your poem takes a particular slant on the experience, the sounds, which reminds me of how memories are preserved as well triggered.



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