Leaf Angels

I still feel the thrill that caused my shriek of joy

Looking out the window at the waste-high

Pile of leaves raked up in the back yard,

And how they exploded like feathers in a pillow fight.

The air so cool, we bundled up like little Michelin Men,

Layers so thick our arms stuck straight out from our sides.

Waddling like ducks hurrying to dodge cars on a busy road

We belly-flopped onto the leaf pile, laughing 'til we cried.

Those heaps of dry, rainbow leaves, light as goose down

So easy to shape and form into anything we could conceive

From schoolroom walls and desks (I was the teacher)

To self-sculptured angels in low relief.

They were carefree days, filled with the imaginings of every child,

No concerns, no limitations, only freedom to be what we wished:

Perfect children enjoying a perfect childhood indulgence.

But then the rains came and caused them to vanish.

Naida Lavon

11/12/10

Diary Poem: Remembering playing in the leaves,

around age 12, when we lived at All States Motel

on 118th and Sandy in Portland OR, in 1965