Musings By Eva Chapman I stopped to wander on a warm, twilight even the usual stillness filled only with the peeping of the tree frog. My feet found the path, hidden from unfamiliar eyes now trod only by the ghosts of those long gone. My gaze followed the banks of the muddy creek where countless fishermen had whiled away many an hour dreaming of the one that got away. I too, had spent time on those muddy banks with Dad and a sister, not afraid of the wiggling worms in the bottom of a rusty old tin can. The cedar pines I remember as seedlings were now overgrown and unkempt, planted as a deterrent to the choking plumes of dust that rose with each passerby. My steps then led me to the old ramshackle shed that once housed our dog Teddy whose high spirited nature had frightened me as a child. I then cast my eyes toward the overgrown fields and recalled the countless hours my Dad had spent there, plowing and planting and waiting for the harvest's reward. And my mind drifted to those carefree summers we spent just four young girls, lying on towels in the front yard, slathered with baby oil seeking that ambiguous suntan our fair skin never found, lost in the tune of a love song from a static filled transistor radio, all with plans of a tomorrow where dreams really did come true.
I stopped to wander on a warm, twilight even the usual stillness filled only with the peeping of the tree frog. EVA CHAPMAN resides in Spencer, WV. Her poems have appeared in Two Lane Livin Magazine. She bases her writings on personal life experiences. In her free time she pursues her passions which are poetry, song writing and reading. You may contact her on face book or email at echapman@frontier.com.
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Halcyon Days - 2016 Issue 1
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