Thursday, May 26, 2016

Water Tower

We couldn't fly.
So we climbed into the Oklahoma sky.
Didn't matter
that the water tower ladder
wasn't welded tight.
We couldn't fly.
So we climbed.

We couldn't leave.
Both of us were just shy of sixteen.
You'd spin me round,
and I'd point
to some spot out on the prairie.
We couldn't leave,
but we could dream.

We never fell.
Though a time or two we thought we might as well.
Gettin' through
the growin' up
sometimes felt like hell.
We loved each other,
but we never fell.

For Shay at Real Toads


Buddah Moskowitz said...

This was poignant and reminded me of my youth. Did you grow up in Fullerton too (yes, it was every bit as dull as it reads)? Was that you? Was that me? Nah, I know who is was and she's been married some 30 years now. But enough (too much) about me ... this was great.

Bekkie Sanchez said...

I felt that way too in my youth stuck in my hometown. I like how you put that "We never fell." So many relationships are like that.

Rommy said...

There is so much implied by that repeated "we never fell", a lack of control that couldn't or wouldn't be yielded. It adds a wonderful touch to a terrific piece.

Fireblossom said...

The middle section paints a picture so vivid it's amazing. You are so good at these. How can restless boredom be written so heartbreakingly beautifully?

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh so poignant. Thankfully you never fell. I remember sixteen and those feelings and dreams. Sigh.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Lovely piece full of reminiscence, the beauty and fragility of youth. It reminds me of Whatever Happened to Gilbert Grape - how sometimes escape means going up, above the fray.

brudberg said...

That image of such climbs make me wonder how we ever got through alive... was it choice or was it coincidence? Or was it the dreams of escaping that saved us.

Outlawyer said...

Ah sweet--all kinds of falling at issue here, including maybe, in love (or not.) Thanks, MZ. k.

Jim said...

Oh my goodness, Mom Z. This was fun to read. I remember times and feelings like this and hope your kids have a life like this. All kids should. We were having kids at those ages. Well, everyone WAS sixteen before there WERE kids.

Anonymous said...

The green is what we imagined -- and write -- the grey is what we lived, until we were asked to write about that too. Yes.

kaykuala said...

The joys of growing-up. Youngsters sharing moments of discoveries where little things matter.