and slam the door behind me.
stools, and a pie display case.
since it tastes like Grandma's.
It's closing time, almost 9 p.m.
From Why I Miss New Jersey (Everhart Press, 2013).
Barbara Eknoian lives in La Mirada, California. From her store of vivid memories, she writes a lot about her growing-up years. Originally from New Jersey, she was forever homesick until she joined Donna Hilbert's poetry workshop in Long Beach. Barbara was the first recipient of the Jane Buel Bradley Chapbook Award for her collection, Jerkumstances (Pearl Editions).
All these memories coming back! If poetry does nothing else in life - it brings back so many acts and thoughts. I didn't get any pie either!
Delightful! Your imaging was right on, thank you.
I ran away many times as a girl. Unfortunately, no pie involved in my adventures.
Everyone remembers that feeling! Nice job.
Having been the family scapegoat in a screwed-up family, I relate to this poem! Thank you.
Love it. I raised two girls and have four granddaughters. It's beautifully written. Barbara Eknoian, I would love to meet you.
Thanks for the trip back to childhood. I, too, packed a case, only I wasn't allowed to cross the street alone, so ate a sandwich sitting on the curb at the end of my block.