Where Lady Bugs Die and You Say a Dozen Good-byes

Sometimes I feel absolutely stupid,

When I don’t know what I said or did.

I can’t remember things I think I should.

I can’t recall all the things you could.

Last week, last year, last decade.

My memories all seem to blur or fade.

But I do remember shelves of pickles,

Jars of eggs and a drawer of nickels,

The sewing machine in the kitchen,

The well out back I made a wish in,

Stairs far too tall and too narrow,

The dying daisies in a wheelbarrow,

Dead ladybugs lying everywhere,

Humidity and bug spray in the air,

The corn so tall it was out of reach,

The Northern twang in her speech,

Finding a centipede in the blue bed,

Then a condom wrapper in the red,

“Don’t eat it, if you didn’t see it made”,

And the mosquitos lingering in the shade.

But silence is what I remember most.

When I was busy avoiding our host

I would go out the back door into the night.

Far from cities and human light.

The sky looked endless and open,

Like a dark ocean, I hoped I’d fall in.

The grass was wet and I never wore my shoes

Or the jacket I always seemed to lose.

I only came in when they went to lock the door,

And I was told I couldn’t stay out anymore.

The chairs were sticky, broken, or stained

And it only smelled nice when it rained.

There was one bathroom and no one knocked.

Everyone always shouted when they talked.

Some rooms filled with frustration, others regret,

But most just things I wish I could forget.

Why was this the place ladybugs came to die?

How was this a place anyone would want to buy?

My dad wrote me a letter and on page two, line four,

He wrote it had been purchased by the family next door.

It was just a throwaway line, just a sentence on paper,

Between talk of his five cats and the new flypaper.

I didn’t like to visit my grandparents' farm,

To me, it lacked both warmth and charm.

But it was always there and it never changed,

The furniture had never and would never be rearranged.

I always knew there’d be a Diet Cherry Pepsi by the sink

And exactly four ice cubes in my grandfather’s drink.

Something would be pickled that shouldn’t have been,

The guys would be watching sports in the den.

It felt like the anchor of my childhood had been released,

The chance to make better memories there had ceased.

From the five hour drive, I was finally set free

But I can’t say it was all that I thought it would be.