I’m from Norman Avenue in North Bay – a land of lakes and forests
A kid-ridden lower middle-class street ending at a long-grassed, beaver-havened swamp.
I’m from wander-lusted forest floor hideouts of endless summer play in the wild, uncouth land;

Escaping into our daily wonderland of wooden bark homes and muddied decaying leafy floors,

Taunted by bears and moose above the escarpment, beyond the creek.
I’m from the broken bridge balanced over rocks –
Tossing stones into that creek, wet-leech covered feet, daring to enter the unknown other-side.

I’m from pool red flags that beckoned us to drown away hot hours into summer BBQs.
With long summer fantasy days fading into bells and brief chilled visits to my forest escape.

 

I’m from crimson flames of falling leaves crunching
While dinner bells ring, drawing my forest clan away one-by-one, by each distinct ring.
I’m from wafting smells of family favourite feasts:
Hams ringed in pineapples, scalloping of potatoes, beans of green and yellow
A devil’s chocolate cake with the fragile boiled white icing – a sticking sweet delight.
I’m from bordering boys of hockey who would dump peas into my milk,
Who would steal the candy of the halloweening children with trip ropes,
Who would torture me with their teasing and star-trekked taser wars.
I’m from a baby sister – a diva of a drama princess,
Stealing my precious Love’s Baby cologne and breaking of my Barbie treasures,
Charming the crowds with tiny tumbles and belting out ABBA tunes

– a devilishly delightful doll of a sister.

 

I’m from Christmas’ where Santa would make a visit to children hoping to make the nice list;

A father – the favourite elf – slaving to transform our home into a winter wonderland;
A mother who rivaled Mrs. Claus with baked delights and dinners well-dressed.
I’m from a treasured time of traditions that would bond us in envied awe from neighbours.

A reunion of cousins and family gathered to celebrate the frozen spirited season.
I’m from screams of terrorized glee whilst sledding down the slippery escarpment hills,

Hot cocoa piled high with marshmallows and whipped cream – and melted cheese dreams.

I’m from stories piled high under the covers with a flashlight – escaping sleep
Enchanted into lands unknown where imagination and dreams wrestle through the witching hour

Kidnapping my heart and spirit into adventures of wild exciting people and places
Igniting the winter slumber with passions of knowing, believing, and being anywhere …
Until my imagination found life again in the forested floor of summer escapes beyond the creek!