One boy's protest against the almighty binary digit via poetry and typewriters.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
it was the seventies, carter was president, there was a corner lot in the neighborhood so dense with growth it was hard to find your way out once you were in. we just called it "the woods". it was a wednesday - the next day was thanksgiving. a dozen or so of us were playing hide and seek. i hid between two oak trees curled up in a natural hutch in the bottom of one of the trunks. i watched the leaves spiraling down in the sun rays shooting through the canopy of the woods.
nobody found me. nor did i want to leave my hiding place. i remember thinking , "i'll just stay here and never come out-so quiet and peaceful. nobody would ever miss me". the other kids grew tired of our game,went home and left me alone while i must have fallen asleep because the next thing i remember is waking up shivering cold in the middle of the night to the sounds of voices and dogs, police sirens and flashlights through the woods. all was forgiven and thanksgiving went on as planned without another hitch.
here i am thanksgiving 30 odd years later- i go back and try to find my hiding place in the woods but discover it's now paved with concrete with 4 trailer houses on top. so it goes.