WEEK FIVE
As I thought about what object I wanted to use for my nature sketch/poem, I looked into bay windows looking out to my backyards. I thought about all the memories I had in my backyard. Other than laying in my hammock, and watching my dad grill out, I didn't have many memories. My backyard is almost entirely made up of ivy. When we first moved to my house when I was 8, I remember that being a really huge indicator that we shouldn't buy the house. I wanted a house with a huge backyard, one where I could play and be free. My parents told me we would get up all the ivy, but obviously that never happened. Instead, I spent a lot of time playing in my front yard/street (I live on a double cul-de-sac). It got my thinking... All this time I have spent hating the ivy, now I can actually appreciate it.
Ivy Weeds
When growing up
backyards are a sign of status.
I dreamed of Barbie playhouses and a sturdy wooden swing set, not a backyard out of commission,
covered by ivy and weeds.
My fear of snakes kept me out,
and drove me to choose hot cement.
I longed for a shady backyard to enjoy.
I would swing at a neighbors house, jealous of their green grass and open spaces.
They didn't have a backyard
covered by ivy and weeds.
A hammock helped me swing over the weeds, reading a book or journaling.
A lawn chair far away kept me from danger.
A screened in porch helped me see but not touch a backyard
covered by ivy and weeds.
As I have grown up, I take solace in the green covering,
the beauty is is to behold.
Of all the changes that have happened in my house, my backyard looks exactly the same.
The small bench my grandmother gave us, the bird bath that we don't fill up anymore.
The tall skinny trees are still
covered by ivy and weeds.
I long for the days where my greatest sadness was about a weed ridden backyard.
I miss playing outside.
I miss running through the sprinkler with my belly hanging out.
I miss the moments of panic when you hear the ice cream truck.
I miss the hopscotch and four square.
I miss my mom calling me in for dinner after a long day of playing.
I miss the security of childhood.
I miss the few moments I spent in a yard
covered by ivy and weeds.