The
Life That Could Have Been
Sun in the hair, wind on the back
Piña colada in hand
The pink umbrella, Pineapple, and even fresh
Grape added on.
This was different to be sure.
The color combination was electrifying though.
Changing the color of the drink to
Periwinkle or purple could have been
New change.
I remember once spilling a drink
On my old brown shag carpet.
The 70s were the time for those.
Along with the time for the Mystery Van.
Weed, flower power, and the time
Of Mohamed the prophet.
The tiles were like it too.
Tiles of off yellow and green
Mixed with the brown to tie
In the rug.
The can of paint which was green
Left in the closet to
Connect every room of the house
Back to the tiles.
The kitchen
Was my favorite part.
Can opener of freedom.
Preparing my favorite meal
Of elk steaks and small salad.
Storage for the regular coffee that was
Not existent.
The living room also held
A special place for the family.
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar on
The television of fuzzy quality.
He was playing in Southern California
In one of the urban areas.
Remembrance was easy
Due to the pair of socks that he wore
Of bright color.
They honestly reminded
Of a peacocks feather.
In summer the picnics were great.
Ants would flood the food
Gates of hell to be smashed
And bashed by shoes and hands.
Or the water from Shasta lake.
Overnight we would camp
Look up at the stars and catch
A glimpse of Venus
During the certain seasons.
Our calico cats left at home
Sparky, Bush, and Klaus
Envied the idea of coming with us.
Their fear of water was too great.
The last memory
Was the child who played every day
On the ground with his train.
He would control it through
Mountains, gravel, streams, and cities.
Even with a train he would go on safaris.
The lucky horse shoe attached to the front
So he could always make it through
The adventure he held in his mind.
The last time the train would be used
Was when a heard of dinosaurs covered the tracks.
Ankylosaurs,
Certopsians, Hadrosaurs, and Sauropods.
All the common herbivores from the past.
As they covered the tracks the train approached
And with a move of his hand
The train crashed into the herd.
Now the house is but a memory.
We left only a few months after his accident.
The rug, tiles, kitchen, television, colors,
And train were all too much to bare.
The night our child was lost
Would never go back to normal.
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