One full page of drivel later (and a lot of frustrated page slashes), a family of four walked in complete with sparkly birthday hats and a cluster of balloons clutched in the hands of the birthday boy. The parents waved at me as I took a snapshot of them. It made me think about what an open canvas childhood is, and how experiences big and small paint themselves on that canvas in hues that set the tone for the rest of life. They can't be primed over or sanded away.
My 85 year old Mother tells stories all the time. Almost all of them are about her childhood. Very little is spoken of some 65 years in deference to fond recollections of the first 20. It reminds me of the importance of that childhood canvas, and how the events and sensory input of those years are indelibly marked on the soul.
By the way, I gifted the young celebrant with a glass of chocolate milk, and when he left he was wearing TWO of the sparkly hats on his head. I hear the chocolate milk is especially fine this season.
The Canvas of Childhood
by Judith Cullen
© 2016
Five balloons a float
each helium-filled token a year
excitement still fresh
Remembering times
of a world all bright and high
vibrant child essence
Remembering days
joy-infused with adventure
replete, repeat them
Remembering sense
sounds and smells of young living
surprises await
When decades have passed
indelibly imprinted
sounds, smells, colors, tastes
Five balloons a float
a special breakfast this day
seeds of memories
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More haiku, drabble and free-verse coming for this year's Proctor ArtsFest Art Inspired Stores Project, coming August 6th!