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Leysa Lowery

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Wonder Bread Years
by Leysa Lowery

Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Leysa Lowery
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           >> View all 196

Guess you could say my upbringing
Was a little on the Wonder Bread Side of white.
White family, white neighbors, white school.
We had a maid,
And a yardman named Jessie,
Who added a dimension of color
To my world --
But colorless was basically the rule.

I thought gay meant happy
And that the two retired schoolteachers
Down the street,
Were just very, very good friends.
I had a difficult time understanding
The reason folks talked so badly of Mr. Stein
When he drove by in his Mercedes Benz.

“He’s a Jew,”
I heard people whisper
On his way to the bank downtown.
I smiled, because Jesus was also a Jew,
I had learned.
And Mr. O’Reilly, father of nine kids,
Who owned the little grocery store
On the corner, gave gumballs
When you brought your pop bottles
In for return.

I thought he was right nice,
A generous soul,
Full of smiles and laughter,
But Mrs. Miller from church,
With a frown, always said
He was a “damned papist …”
Looking back I know I was confused
These wonderful people were always kind to me
Yet were treated
Like scalawags, thugs and rapists.

My children’s lives are not Wonder Bread white
But truly wondrous in experience -- Thank God!
Their world Is filled with many colors, shades and hues.
People of all backgrounds, different faiths,
Equally their friends and confidantes.
We all grow -- Hopefully still expanding our views.  

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Reviewed by Ted Sheridan (Reader) 1/30/2003
This should be in a Hall Of Fame!
Reviewed by Susan de Vegter 1/29/2003
I treviewed the frame of Wonderbread from my youth. Brightly colored dots all over the wrapper. Like your poem, it's a slice of our world and growing up and the wonder of a child at realizing the times and the system that seperated heritage of others' not like their own.
I really admire this write of yours. Good job!
Peace and love,
Reviewed by Linda Murray 1/29/2003
Leysa this is a very good poem of the different cultures that are in our world today. In the world of yesteryear, people just didn't understand that we are as one, in the world as we do now.
Reviewed by Amy Hess (Reader) 1/29/2003
the beginning gets your point across just fine. the narrative/commentary at the end (the last stanza) is not needed. makes a stronger statement without it. good job.
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 1/29/2003
i really love this! the entire poem is wonderful, but especially, "my children's lives are not 'wonder bread' white/but truly wondrous in experience--thank God!/their world/is filled with many colors, shades and hues." excellent, descriptive piece! (((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader) 1/29/2003
Very good.
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