The Lessons of the Loch

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I remember no one from that summer
25 years ago
Beneath the tilt-a-whirls
And green monsters

It was as if I had become Walden
Musing quietly to myself
Among the Clydesdales and bathroom disinfectant

It was a season for the books
The hot days of crop tops
And acid washed fabrics
Hip Hop Looney Tunes
And pagers

I was learning to be brave
To live alone for a little while
Before running back to the comfort of home
Where Mother washed my clothes
And Dad made me mow the lawn

I remember no one from that summer
25 years ago
Flying with the wolves
And escaping the ruins of Pompeii

It is as if I had been devoid
Of co-workers
And bosses
The faces aren’t blank
Because there are no bodies to attach to them
My spatial memory had failed
And the orientation of my plain
Remained unaltered and crisp

I was given responsibility
Over small children
The newly minted
Keeper of the convivial bunch
I moved about on my own
With an air of importance
I was a part of a moving puzzle
Entrusted to do my job with limited supervision

I remember no one from that summer
25 years ago
Hanging above the Rhine
And eating in beer halls

My paycheck was not monetary
It was freedom
The job was not monotonous
It was an indulgence in life
I scrubbed the thrones
And picked up Budweiser droppings
Not with disdain
But with an air of repletion

I remember no one from that summer
25 years ago

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