MY GRANDFATHER IN BROADMOOR, LITTLE ROCK, (JULY 1962)

MY GRANDFATHER IN BROADMOOR, LITTLE ROCK, (JULY 1962)

for Mr. and Mrs. Milton B. Young, my beloved grandparents and guardians who raised my sister and I]

an orangeade sunset cools behind the trees

of viridian green so thickly laid on his canvas of

the rose scented air, or magnolia, gardenia,

anywhere astonishes and swings

his backyard hammock

for a moment's respite

and we recite to a summer's breeze

through our open window the

names of clouds as though it were a round

my sister and I

oh cirrus, cumulous, cumulo-stratus

beautiful everything

(we laugh at nimbus)

and eat charbroiled burgers in a restaurant

where the minute man stands guard

and deep dish cherry pie

with a pat of butter piping hot

or watermelon at a stand after the ball games

shading into deep pink and dripping down the chin

of Heaven how could it be otherwise

or the drone of planes fly over catching his eye

and he points out the sky trails mysteriously

or we have a small party for the moment

celebrating Telstar

drinking Tang for breakfast, instant breakfasts

crunching strawberry filled toaster pastries

 just before the school bus comes,

goodbye my milky stars my beautiful everything

we will forget to say like a scene out of Our Town

we will remember someday

outrageously the blaze of the nasturtiums

orange, pink, and red shading into purple

oh do not cry for what was left unsaid

since even then we understood,

packing our schoolbooks in

for scholastic paperbacks, instead,

it was an Eternal neighborhood

mary angela douglas 10 may 2014