The Old Front Porch..., Odin 8 Options

[Judi]

I drove by the old house yesterday.
There was snow on the spintered
railing, and the gaping glassless
windows seemed to look out with
dignity instead of ignored pathos.
Snow has a way of making all
things beautiful with their
ugliness hidden for a time.

That old front porch could tell
a thousand stories,
stories of hot summers when we
sat there with our lemonade
hoping it would rain,
waiting for the clouds to darken
and spill their heavy load
to the ground-
then my friends and I would run with
abandon through the drops.

When I was older, I remember
sitting on that porch, taking
a cold iced tea glass and
running it over my forehead
and cheeks, then the expanse
of chest uncovered by an
old cotton dress. I'd lay my
head back against the cushion
of the porch swing and glide
slowly to and fro to the music
on the radio, and sometimes
when my beau came to call, we'd
get lost in that easy action of
just being young and alive.

Yes indeed, a thousand stories
about that od front porch,
but now it's just a snow-crowned
skeleton, waiting to die.

--

Judith Anne Labriola