"If you write FOR a particular market or FOR a particular editor you will often miss the mark. But if you write because your fingers have danced across the keyboard, because a character has tapped you on the shoulder, because a story has settled in your heart, then even if you never sell it you have done the work you were meant to do. And sometime, dear readers, real magic happens." Jane Yolen

8/14/09

Friday Fiction: "Just The Other Day"


Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted by Rick "Hoomi" Higginson at Pod Tales and Ponderings. Make sure that you head over to his blog and link up with your own fiction. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!), head over to Rick's blog and check out the links there.
Confession: I really DO know the difference between a fiction piece and poetry. But, I'm posting this anyway. I very rarely write poetry (only when the Lord is dragging me by my toes out of my comfort zone and when NOTHING else comes to mind), but it generally seems to be very well-received when I do. I like this one - it's actually one of my very early Faithwriters' Challenge entries (it's from nearly three years ago!). And it's NOT long. (oh - and it is NOT a true story - so I guess it's still fiction. Right??)

JUST THE OTHER DAY

Just the other day
I saw innocence speed by
in 3T overalls
a bright yellow shirt
Bob the Builder tennis shoes
and a fireman's helmet.

His blue and white tricycle
(with superhero trading cards
stuck in the spokes)
raced down the block,
bicycle bell ringing,
to come to the rescue
of cats stuck in trees
(do firemen still do that?)
and damsels in distress.

His fire hose twig
and boymade sound effects
triumphed over the flames
in grandiose fashion.

He was the hero
to his little sister
his stuffed dalmatian
and his imaginary friend Bud.

He was my hero too
for his reckless abandon
for his innocence
for his love of a pursuit
that had robbed him of a father.

As he napped on my chest
two years ago
(seems like yesterday)
his dada entered the flames
and entered heaven.

He wants to be like
the daddy he doesn't remember
to save the damsel in distress
to protect the world from the flames.

My little firefighter
showed me how to love
how to embrace a memory
how to honor a legacy
just the other day.

**

Thanks for reading. Be sure to stop by Pod Tales and Ponderings for more great fiction (and probably not MUCH poetry - but no promises!)

7 comments:

  1. Very nice, Joanne. I do sometimes miss those days when innocence ran around the house.

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  2. So sweet. Keep permitting God to drag by the toes out of your comfort zone.

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  3. Awww! So darling! I don't think I've every read this one before, but I love it. I especially like the bit with "damsels in distress" it made me smile. Good job!

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  4. Oh the imaginations little kids have! Loved the details in this, Jo!

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  5. That was SO GOOD Joanne! You really should write more poetry. I'm jealous. I can't seem to evolve beyond "Roses are red, violets are blue..."

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  6. Sweet one, Jo! I miss the days when my own little guys were racing around the house.

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  7. I miss those innocent days, too! Love this poem, Jo, and it really spoke to my heart. I remember feeling this way when Jim died--so much legacy wrapped up in a little boy!

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