Postcardsfrom My Past Poem by Panagiota Romios

A little girl with dark brown braids.
White blouse, gold colored wool skirt and patent leather Mary Janes.
An only child with a wired haired fox terrier that lived with Grandpa,
Mother and Father.

Her Mother, sweet, who saw to it
that she had ballet lessons, went
to a private school and Mother read her poetry for hours.

A book collection she did have and loved to read even before she
could.

Playing with friends, riding her bike, loved sparklers on warm, July
Fourth nights.

Saw men proud to wear a uniform, who never came back from the war.
She did not understand when someone stole her Teddy Bear
during a blackout. Whoever would do that?

No TV, no technology, just cut-outs, crayons and she was taught
to salute the flag, because she lived in the land of the free.

Children were safe, could go on the El train downtown.
But she cherished it most when
hiding like a cub, under her Mother's warm coat. The snow
sticking to train windows.

Swimming at small lakes in summer she loved the most. So
suntanned, the color of toast.

The girl knew song lyrics, she never forgot.
They live in her mind and heart and cannot be turned off.

Years passed, the autumns and summers.
Family almost all gone, yet somehow, she remains young.

Always desirous of being herself, you won't find the braided girl
wanting to belong to any crowd.


The music, the dance, her life, somehow made her a poetess.
Surely, not the best!

Being genuine is the gold standard for all she writes.

She does not write to impress with finesse. Just to keep it simple
as can be. Thus~ her poetry!



Notes. Poet grew up in Chicago, Illimois, when the city was sane,
safe and peaceful. It was a wonderful city...