Our Yellow Garage
Our yellow garage with
a padlock – foggy windows
near yellow tulips growing
in our garden –
Told to stay away from
– never get
to close to foggy windows,
but they were really dirty.
I tried to sneak closer,
creeping knee high in flowers
as my shoes smashed flowers
and Grandmother’s eyes watched
me through her window, upstairs.
“Daddy tell me what was
kept in our garage – what was
inside and kept a secret for
a lifetime?”
Often wondered why they
owned a garage since no one
had a car until the fifties.
Daddy told me, “your Grandfather
kept bananas safe, away from
summers heat and direct sun –
for the fruit man.”
You told me –
and I remember.
You told me your Father –
my Grandfather I never knew
worked for a fruit company,
for “Fruit Men.”
You told me –
and I remember.
But – you told me your
Father – my Grandfather –
he was killed working –
for those fruit men.
The fruit men killed
him –
Did – your Father –
my Grandfather –
destroy – all of their
bananas?
We all enjoy Nancy and her work. She’s always be an up and postive person and displays such in her writing. I remember her telling us that the garage was also home to an antique Studebaker. Something about her dad using it during one of his successful campaigns for relection.
You are so right Gianni, it was a place where all the signs hung for others and for my father. He was always in politics, but I do recall the hikes through woods and once I found a rotton egg and insisted on taking it home, it burst in my hands and the smell, well I needed scrubbing as did the house. But when you recall all the good times and still see that yellow garage, it makes me feel I am right back there. Just this weekend, we emptied some of the garage and found two baby kittens, and wondered where the mother was. Love, Nancy