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McKean County 1955

By Bonnie McMillen

Gramma in the morning, and
all of us around the table.
Summer days stretched ahead
in skies of blue and white.
 
Security of Mom and Dad right there.
The old black Plymouth, the trunk
full of fishing poles and worms.
Cousins to chase around the yard.
 
My brothers working on their cars and
all my firsts still ahead of me, love, sex, marriage, births.
My old hometown, the school, the church,
the rest.
 
The dirt roads and hobos eating sandwiches, talking politely
to Mom and Gramma on the porch. They
would insist on doing a chore.
 
One sharpened scissors and lawn mowers. He
came back every year, even made friends with Dad.
His name was Harold Fleek, one year he didn’t come.
We never saw him again.

 

Bonnie McMillen is a native of Bradford and spent her younger years playing around the Harry Emery airport on Dorothy Lane. While working as Director of Student Health at Pitt-Bradford, she became interested in writing poetry and short stories. This interest has continued into a busy retirement. Abecedarian, Dear Harry Emery Airport, Tales from the Female Crypt

Filed Under: 2021 Issue, Poetry

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