HORIZONTAL MYSTERY SHIP
when you leave at seventeen
rarely home
more than two weeks at a time
months, years and decades
can be surprisingly unreliable markers of adulthood
only once
in the summer of ‘88
a recent college grad
wide-eyed and wanderlust-fueled
my tonsils required more
I stayed a whole month
once healed, packed, and in possession of necessary visas
off to the southern hemisphere
a young pioneer
in search adventure
and different stars
now, when visiting
after a lifetime lived elsewhere
grey hairs visible
no matter my efforts
I find myself
sliding into a peculiar second adolescence of sorts
driving Dad’s truck
windows down, hair blowing
mile after mile of expansive, wild beauty
the prairie
a determined cellular homesteader
forever staking a claim in my blood and bones
I want to sneak out to the bar
play Space Invaders
sadly, no longer a standard
unlike 1982
drink beer, eat junk food
and avoid the endless expectations of being a grown-up
Looking back with midlife sensibilities
I realize
those late nights in high school
tenth grade, I believe
laser focused, playing Space Invaders
provided a surprisingly valuable education
initials entered, quarters stacked
protect the bunkers, defeat the aliens
monitor the horizontal mystery ship with vigilance
my peripheral vision unknowingly trained
to notice things beyond immediate scope
bonus points pinged
while friends waited impatiently
twenty more minutes, please
under a waning August moon
only one lunar phase ago
I was still my father’s daughter
a middle-aged, South Dakota teenager
pretending time actually plays tricks
wanting desperately to disregard reality
one more visit on the calendar
one more phone call
cheeseburger or ice cream cone
one more evening watching
Everybody Loves Raymond
M.A.S.H.
or Mayberry RFD
twenty more minutes, please
quarters stacked no longer
Space Invaders
the nearly forgotten teenage relic
of a heartbroken
fifty-something
fatherless daughter
once again,
I am protecting my bunkers
monitoring a new horizontal mystery ship
paying very close attention
to what's just beyond my immediate scope
just twenty more minutes, please
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WOW! Just wow…for now.
Presently returning from Brattleboro on train after celebrating Chad’s BD.
Visit soon?
Always much love…….. J.
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You put into words how I felt going “home” so many times and now have not been back since 2006 when my Mom died. I think it’s time. Thank you.
I understand. I’m always grateful when a writer can distill their experiences and reflect what I’m feeling. It’s often so hard to do that for ourselves. Thank you for reading and responding.
Sure beautifully said and so true. Those feelings will never leave you. And we never want them to leave. Love and Hugs to you, Mary
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oh Lisa…
just twenty minutes more,
always
backward and forward.
<3