farewell cubby house

May 4, 2010 Posted by the writer

When I was a kid my best friend and I had two token cubby houses. One in the closet that was beneath the staircase at my parents’ place, and one that was built up in between a triangular formation of trees in the woods behind her parents’ house. Her brother liked to think of it as ‘his fort’… what little did he know…

I find that every place I end up living has some type of area about it that turns into a 21st century cubby house. Presently it’s a room full of windows. I’ve also had back porch playhouses and a room with ceilings reaching only about four feet high with a sloping floor.

I’ve lived in many different places.

Thank God I’m moving inner city!! We have over-extended our time in the suburbs of Brisbane although the beaches and hinterland are enough to keep just about anyone locked in for a bit.

First stop Melbourne… next stop New York City… I wrote this poem on the train this morning. I thought about changing the title, but for some reason it makes me happy.

I’m pretty excited about the travel down south. Nothing says poetry like a 1000 mile road trip.

… in a Toyota Yaris with puppies.

yes i would (like a picnic)

He hears
music. My song
summon.
Clock erase
waiting.
Sitting on a park bench.
Impatient.
Toe taps.
Look back
over
your shoulder.
A rhythm of
step.
Walking inside
outlines.
Two goodbyes
before.
We all went
out.
Side.

About the writer

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gretchen's brain is preoccupied with words.

4 Responses to farewell cubby house

  1. avatar Cathal says:

    I just love the fact you were compelled to show us a picture of a yaris 🙂

    • avatar gretchen says:

      HaHAAHahaha!!! You know me, just wanted everyone to be clear I’m not fucking around here… it’s serious people. 😉

  2. avatar Marley says:

    Horray for cubbies! Although it may not “technically” be a cubby, nothing beats under your parents porch; we had tons of fun under there.

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