Fictitious Reminiscence

by Alli Treman

Before anything else I remember
my mom carrying me
into the kitchen
to look at the calendar.
An event which likely happened
time and again
since she writes everything
on the wall calendar.

I see my feet thumping as I'm
jumping across pale-blue carpet
circled by tall aunts and uncles
sitting in tall chairs.
"I can skip! I can skip!"

Ludington fills up three pages in part 1
of my childhood photo album.
See me running on the pier,
view snapshots of a little blonde girl
smiling by the sunset.
I cannot picture the sunset,
or the pier, instead I see
a Squirt truck handing out free pop
my parents don't seem to recollect.

We had a large shrub
in front of the swing set.
I recall my mom
calling it a dogwood.
But dogwoods are trees with many
pink or while flowers.
Not green leaves on red twigs.
At least, I think the twigs were red.
I'm not sure I remember.

The Author

An English major at Grand Valley State University in Michigan, Alli finds inspiration trying to keep warm walking back from class. Alli started keeping a journal in third grade and became addicted. Now she has a box of about ten of them under her bed and writes about herself online at her site entranced.org. If not in class or working on her website, Alli can probably be found parked in front of the television watching old Alias episodes on DVD with her roommate.