I dip my pen into an inkwell of memories
it's 1967 and I am young again
the winter hills were mountainous
as I trudged home from school
and back again;
Soggy mitts and silly smiles
lopsided hats and fury coats that held no heat
Cold pressed and uneaten ice cakes
snow squalls brushed against reddened cheeks
and buckle boots that crunched the virgin snow
with eyes pinned to the floor,
" I made it through the front door"
Grannies foamy smile and apron white hair
told me I was loved, twice over;
1967 was a year of elementary school and day camp. What else happened to me that year? I don't even remember. But my brother was still alive. So, a good year.
When I compare my picture in 1966 with your picture in 1967, you seem much older than me, although I was 24.
However, although some of the articles of clothing were slightly different, and there were no mountains, the imagery of snow is very familiar along with soggy wet and a loving household with warm food always cooking and smelling great, greeted every arrival home from school.
1967 was a pivotal year for me as well. Graduated High School. Then got drafted into the Army. Love the imagery in your piece. Touching. Last two lines reminded me of Gunvor, my grandmother; there was much love between us too. Enjoyed this Vienna. Nice pic. Regards... rlc
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A young student is interested in learning coding programs. He applies and is rejected because of his age. He does not give up and tries again and is accepted. Eventu
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but I'll bet you left a lot of smiles...and you still do!
However, although some of the articles of clothing were slightly different, and there were no mountains, the imagery of snow is very familiar along with soggy wet and a loving household with warm food always cooking and smelling great, greeted every arrival home from school.
Ron