Shuma
When I was little
We moved next to a forested
Gulch (a 'shuma' in Serbian) ,
Where a neighbor boy led me down the place
To get acquainted with the trees.
He pointed out poison ivy and oak,
He showed me the beavers' dam,
But I best recall Daddy Long Legs,
The spider I thought looked
Like those killing machines in 'War of the Worlds.'
Daddy had far too many legs, however,
And, according to the boy, posed no threat.
In winter, sledding down there
Was a gas, was my purest thought ever.
My parents were still alive
And posited no threat.
That once-upon-a-time
I held no regrets.
Now I cannot look nto the mirror-
My youth is bereft.
Tired branches sprout from silent ears.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
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