I remember creeping up slowly
I was not allowed to play
in the busted and rusted out
’56 Ford –
I remember the faded yellow paint
peeling in the sunshine
chipping slivers off
and watching them flutter slowly to the ground
like the oak seeds
helicopter style
spinning and twirling
down, down, down…
I remember the shinning silver handle
with its easy downward force mechanism
and how smoothly the door came open
as if it were fresh off the lot
and I were an interested buyer
and not a child
breaking rules placed for my safety
and well-being….
I remember not caring if I might get cut
or rusty paint chips in my eye
only that this was mine and Grandpa’s special place
and I missed him –
I remember reaching out to the ripped and faded interior
feeling its heat on my hand
I remember my ears being perked
straining to hear the backdoor
of the farmhouse
if mother found me
dad would whip my *** after work….
I remember that is what he called it.
I remember that hot upholstery
and my small fingers
twisting a string
before I made my move to jump into the cab
and drive, cross-country….
as I looked up,
legs like coiled springs
I remember the fattest bodied garden spider
I remember his black and yellow pattern
his perfectly developed web
I remember standing in shock
as this monster had taken over my special place
I remember falling backwards onto the yellowed grass
his freakish body forever imprinted
my 4 year old psyche damaged
giving me a lifetime
of an unreasonable fear of spiders
…..I remember that day
because I cannot forget it –
poetry month prompt #29