Reprise of the Old Lady
Summer nights we played at camping
in our own backyard, built a pillowy fortress
inside Dad’s old two-man tent,
stayed up talking into the cricket-filled corners
of long July nights. I was never spooked
until the wee hours, when there came
a clanging of chains, that witchy
old lady next door letting her demonic
dogs out. Once I woke to a shadow
on the canvas, the shape of a face
I imagined was hers, outline
illuminated by lightning
bugs that danced outside, drunk
on darkness. Stricken with terror,
unable to rouse my sister, I unzipped
the door, wiggled my way out, ran
toward the glow of the magic
circle on the back deck, yellow
halo safe from spirits, the exterior light
our parents left on just in case
we ever got scared.
14 thoughts on "Reprise of the Old Lady"
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ode to the comfort
of liminal light(s)!
(ps. thanks for inspo BTW
for my yesterday’s dash-)
I didn’t get a lot of reading time yesterday, but I will check it out now!
This was a delight. The yellow circle was a decided comfort for me too. It was always warmer there on a chilly night. Loved the cricket corners, and the clanging of chains coupled with the demonic invoked a hellscape, the panicked decision to run – leaving sister behind. I have to confess, I laughed the whole time.
Beautiful.
Delightful. Funny how some of our most cherished memories are of being scared, at Halloween etc., maybe because it was safe in that context. It’s the terrors of later years, with no one but ourselves to save us, that we (at least I) remember in a much different light.
Yes, I think I’m intrigued by my memories of her because as an adult I can see she was perfectly harmless, even though she scared the tar out of me back then. And I agree that adult terrors we face are much more…well, terrifying!
I loved the bugs drunk on darkness
Love this. So universal — my daughter used to love camping out in the back yard. And getting frightened while doing so.
Absolutely adore “cricket-filled corners / of long July nights”
Just beautiful.
You capture that magic wonder of youth in this piece so well
The imagery and sound of the language are really evocative of childhood camping.
Loved the images and the fear! Great rendering of a memory!
I agree with others said. I like the way the poem closes.
The security offered buy parents while simultaneously letting their kids taste independence is priceless.
Yes camping in the back yard. I slept out there with my boys many times.