I dashed out this piece two and a half years ago in a workshop led by Louisiana Poet Laureate Dr. Daryl Bourque. The verse recalls a childhood memory of me and my sister sneaking out the back door with a bag of “forbidden fruit”–forbidden in that the pieces of fruit were meant for the entire family. For us, the consumption of the fruit was meant to be administered by strict parental control. As adventurous preschool aged toddlers, though, we exceeded our bounds, evidenced by Mama’s swift and punitive reaction to the discovery of our wanton waste.
Memoir from the Parsonage (Where I Grew Up)
Recalled from New Zion Church, St. Tammany Parish, Louisiana, Cerca 1956
By David Pulling
July 2009
From childhood, a wilderness of memories, 50 years old:
Sing a summer song.
On the kitchen counter
Beside the ice box
A brown paper bag.
Fruit!
Red apples. Yellow bananas. Orange oranges.
Temptation gleams in preschoolers’ eyes.
Snatch the bag,
Out the screen door, down the steps,
Crouch beneath the window:
Big brother and little sis,
Like little Adam and Eve
One by one, test the taste,
A test of this, a taste of that,
Bite by bite,
A bag of semi-eaten fruit.
“Which one do you like?”
“I like this one.”
“I like that one.”
“Here. Try this.”
“That’s good!”
“Shhhhhhh! Listen”
The screen door creaks. Around the corner,
“Mama!”
“Uh-oh.”
Break a switch from the Bridal Wreath.
Teach little ones
To taste not, want not.
Sing a summer song.
Ah- the Bridle Wreath Switch!!!! Instrument of discipline in childhood!! You “little kids” had your bad moments I guess!! I think my “bad moments” were worse than taking the forbidden fruit!?!?!?! Can’t remember them all! Mental block!!??