Submitted to dVerse for Tuesday poetics, where we're challenged
to write suburban poetry. My thoughts went to the suburbs
of my early marriage, and to a kinder, gentler day. I fell
back into my familiar and loved rhyme and metre for this one.
It was the prefab suburbs, our house came on a truck
They put it together in a single day, with any kind of luck
Our view was of the farmer’s barn, we were in an open field
He’d determined selling out would be the greater yield.
And so the streets appeared and marched in identical rows
With identical little houses, except for color, I suppose
Our street was full of dreams, obtained with GI loan
But we all knew in 30 years, they’d be our very own.
Soon the babies came along, we raised them all together
They roamed the yards in safety; no need for electronic tether.
They knew well that any mischief, be it this, that or the other
Would travel up and down the street, passing from mother to mother.
We taught them all respect, and to obey the golden rule
When autumn came, we dressed them up and sent them off to school
The big ones watched the little ones as they walked along the way
Yes, the world was safe and life was good, in that suburban day.