Life is Good
Renee Galloway
Forty years ago, eight and energetic
Skinny blonde with innocent eyes and a crooked smile
Simple toys like mops and rocks
Locksley’s my favorite playmate, she was rich with Barbies and no need for mops
Lawrence Welk and the beautiful dancers, Sissy and Bobby mesmerized me so
Mawmaw and Pawpaw’s tiny white house with the Naugahyde couch
Where’s that pesky brother? Playing in the woods no doubt.
Vietnam, Kennedy assassinated, hippies, peace man, groovy, Goldie Hawn and Laugh-In
Thirty years ago, eighteen years of age, not quite my prime
Skinny girl with “Frost and Tip” streaks and a quiet mouth now straightened out
Cruising McDonalds, looking for the boys, and working at Ruby Falls
Mickie was my best friend forever and closest confidante
American Bandstand showed us the latest moves, rating songs by the way we groove
Hanging out by the crisp, intoxicating lake; never could get up on one ski
My brother is late getting home . . . always at his girlfriend’s house
Watergate, Roots, Walk this way, Good night, John-boy and May the force be with you
Twenty long years ago, married and twenty-eight
Not so skinny after two babies and Mama says I look tired; bleached blonde hair, what a mistake
Money good, although we could always use more
Too far away from my closest friends
Spiritual life awakens, I fervently pray
Giddy Golden Girls and disorderly military functions
Too far away from my closest friends
Little brother married, what’s so great about Texas . . . wish I could see him
Who shot J.R., Just say No, Thriller, CDs and The Wall finally falls
Ten years ago, I was pushing fantastic forty at thirty-eight
Not so slender, toned-down hair with highlights not bleach
Three precious kids and working part-time consume me
Military activities, now a little more formal, but lots of good friends here in Japan
CNN and the delayed taping of Today keep us in touch with home
Money is good; just so much to buy
Brother, where art thou? How did we get so far?
Doc Martens, political correctness, cell phones, Gulf War, Columbine
Today I’m forty-eight, nearer to fifty than anything else
Brown hair with professional streaks
New lines on my face everyday, but I can’t see them if I don’t look
Who cares anyway? My eyes are going bad.
School, work, school . . . only see him on the weekends now
Money goes as fast as it comes
Empty nest . . . that’s when life begins they say
Television, who has the time? Pray, pray, pray.
Last week my brother called from his home far, far away
September 11, duct tape, Y2K, going green, I-Pods, Emo, Google, Virginia Tech