If we are writers, we’ve written many times about childhood, but, hey, our lives are replete with memories of those early days at school, with family, many of them “first” experiences, Here is a poem by Jo McDougall entitled “Mothers and Daughters.” Click on the title and read McDougall’s beautiful poem that begins with the line , “When I Was a Child,” and then free write for ten minutes beginning with that single phrase. See what memory does for you today. Though my poem doesn’t start with the same phrase as McDougall’s, I am including one of my childhood memories. Happy writing!
A Father’s Day Story, 1939
I heard a story about family.
About how my father and his first-born
would trek the one mile
down the washed-out country road
to meet the school bus in winter.
About how her Shirley Temple curls
would freeze into place,
about how he would jimmy a cup
of tar from a bleeding pine tree,
lighting the gum resin with a long
red-tipped kitchen match to provide
heat for her frost-bitten hands.
I wasn’t there, but I remember
smelling the pitch, his cupping
the fame, the black smoke spiraling
like happiness toward the heavens.
I remember the glow of the fire,
the warmth, the love.