In the summer when I didn't have to take out clinkers
and even winter when dad started to buy small coal
And in that time before I was old enough to have a paper route
Patty Zinkashbobish and I played mornings
I understand she became a nun and I am some better but no saint
She adored my macho knife throwing skills( into the garage wall)
and my beebee gun expertise into a jug of foamy beer. Splat!!!
Oh God)) we laughted as he looked down at the little glass ring
hanging on his finger and the beer all over his shoes
And that last summer before I started to work,she got serious about catechism
we sat all day on the rock where billy wolf dove and broke his neck
and watched them grapple for the dead in the gravel pit
then laid on the grass and watched her father practice with his polka band
They were getting ready for a wedding. I kissed her
I was wondering this morning if patty is still married to Christ?

much enjoyed your dive jake, back into childhood, and deeper
no broken necks, or hearts - a loss of bodies though
-- allan
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I knew this was you before checking. Great poem on a memory. Resembles some of the genre I see published.Jane
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Enjoyed this bit of a walk down memories lane--thanks. JFC
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Thanks Allan,Jane, JFC..not much of a poem,I know..but I was thinking how very different it is to see things thru a childs eyes....The truth of it is that many chrildren died in that gravel pit either because they did not have the money or they were of the wrong color and I remember sitting there watching the men in row boats with Grappling hooks trying to recover one of these dead kids .. I rambled on too long....jake
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a fantastic study of the human heart and memory. a fine poem jake! -pen:)
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Hard to follow some of the poem's particulars and sequences,..still,... bodies of dead kids , lost in gravel. A stranger story than most seen. Can look more traumatic through a child's eyes...Great show of imagination.