Memory Lane

The walled-in concrete steps

That led downstairs

I would often sit there

Unless it was flooded from rain

Our old black lab mutt, Fritz

He was always a good boy

Not the first dog we had

But the first dog I remember

Our big-small back yard

Where I first mowed grass

With an electric mower

Careful not to mow the cord

The redwood-stained garage

Built on the new concrete driveway

Where dad parked his motorcycle

And new crème-colored Cadillac

Old, thick roots of the

Big oak tree out front

A battlefield for my army guys

And racetrack for Hot Wheels

Our street was lined

With working-class houses

Where, here and there,

My friends all lived

Rouge River creek wove through the neighborhood

Every boy’s playground and place of high adventure

Breaking bottles and catching crayfish

The occasional rope swing that never lasted long

Games of Chase (No babysitting home base!)

Teams chosen and boundaries agreed upon

Staying out ‘til the streetlights started to come on

Summer days seemed to last forever then

But summer didn’t really last

And soon the days grew cooler

We all knew school would start soon

Everybody walked; that’s just how it was

We all ran home after school

So we could maximize our play time

And get stuff accomplished

Before dinner time rolled around

Soon Halloween would be approaching

“What are you gonna be?”

Always the most-asked question

Costume choices were important

Eventually there’d be snow

Galoshes came out of closets again

Clunky soles and one broken buckle

I preferred tennis shoes all year

Then, Christmas, of course

The annual Christmas Eve trip

To see both sets of grandparents and

Whichever relative stopped by that year

The long trek, blocks and block

Dragging my sled to Powers Hill

Where new plastic sleds worked best

Not the old steel-railed wooden ones

I drove back there recently

My old street dead-ended at the creek

The neighborhood houses looked small

And the sled hill is long gone