It’s funny how no matter how old we get
we’ll go back in time remembering
a special place we can still go to in our mind…
A place we can form some self-reflection, or,
just close our eyes and take deep breaths.
Along with Grandma’s willow tree in the city,
Uncle Fred’s loft in the country was
and is just such a place.
A big old hay-filled barn with a giant loft for
jumping, laying, hiding treasures, and, well,
just taking those deep breaths.
I used to lay up in that loft and read the
rest of my life in the moon and the stars.
We kids would yell down from the window
teasing that nasty ole’ bull Uncle Fred had and then
giggle our butts off when Uncle came running to scold us.
And much to Uncle’s chagrin we’d throw down
piles and piles of hay for jumping and making chaos
out of barn order and wicked thunder out of country silence.
But most importantly the thing I remember then for real
and now in this used up mind…
You could always always depend on a soft landing
in Uncle Fred’s Loft,
© 2014 DiAnne Ebejer