First Memory

Brave at Two

He sits, paper spread under
yellow fingers of lamplight. The Grundig
drones the news.

Children are down,
but one doesn't sleep.
She is watching light slide
across the wall and fade down the street.
The world is her own tonight.

Slipping from the shared warmth,
into the night hall,
avoiding the caverns of unlit rooms,
she begins an adventure.

Light from the living room chases
the darkness, just enough for
fat feet to pad down the hardwood
on a silent mission.

She sees his head crowned in light above
the high-backed chair.
The radio talks unseen,
masking her presence.

Climbing the open-drawers
she stretches up onto cold linoleum counters,
and discovers the treasure; the white sweet-sugar
crust of Campfire marshmallows wrapped in a blue
waxed papered box.

And Nobody ever knew.


copyright 1997 Eileen Osgood aka Eileen Sagona Keister

Lou gave me this card for my birthday a few years ago and it works with this poem perfectly.

I believe I am 2 yrs old in this photo. My brother Jim, in the background, appears to be around 1+ years and we are just a little over 1 year apart. This is taken at Easter time (I can tell by my Easter bonnet and Jimmy's suit) in Nuremburg, Germany. I believe in 1956...I would have been three that following November. This was when I got up on the counter via the drawers I pulled open and got into the Campfire marshmallows on my own. It was the first time I did something without anyone knowing and it was a powerful moment that I clearly remember. This is a product of a poetry writing course I took (one of many) over the course of 3 years under the Poet B.H.Fairchild. I owe my love of poetry to him.