When i was a child i
lived on city sidewalks;
not literally, of course.
we had a pleasant home
with generous backyard;
but i learned to bike,
play jacks, hopscotch,
and roller-skate
with neighbor kids
on paved pathways.
Sidewalks’ cracked
upheaval just adds
to the adventure…you
must avoid the bumps!
Life lesson learned:
concrete is painfully
unforgiving to bare
knees and elbows
when crash landing
brother’s bike off ramp.
The sidewalk was
a way of opportunity:
waiting at school bus stop,
biking to friend’s house,
riding to corner drugstore
to spend quarter on candy;
walking dog to nearby park,
running for grocery item
or reporting to babysitter
duties around our block.
Sometimes the
city sidewalk scene
turned threatening:
dark shaded, vacant
vine covered manse;
suspicious stranger
beckoning from car
parked in narrow alley,
or snarling doberman
chasing flying pedals.
Our fenced lawn
was a refuge; our
apple tree, an oasis
in a maze of sidewalks,
brick walls, city streets.
i’m happy for my childhood;
and grateful my own children
live on land rurally graced
with open skies and space
for green, growing things.
a poem in my pocket 