Hilary S.

My Road

My Road is my perfect retreat
No cars or motorcycles come speeding down
Just the occasional Prius full of kids in the backseat
It is the quietest road and the best in the town

But the neighbors make the noise level great
So much energy, all very nice
The total number of kids is twenty-eight
To find out whose child it is we have to look twice

There are our senior neighbors
Sweet Barbara and Paul
We help them with their labors
They are grandparents to us all

And on Friday nights in the spring there are festivities
It begins with wine on the front porch
And turns into pizza and activities,
By midnight the kids are asleep on the porch

The other kids and teens on the our loop
Are good fun to hang out and run around with
We all play games inside and out as a group
Seven and seventeen-year-olds don’t get along? A myth!

We have made up games for teens and tikes
Like our favorite, the legendary one,
That game, played with great enthusiasm, is the most fun!

Then there were the games that failed
Like capture-the-flag-Easter-egg-hunt
Too many people were jailed!
When the game ended, the yard looked like a war front

We also had a cook-off wearing bibs
What the older kids made was okay,
Strawberry smoothies, mashed potatoes and ribs
But the little kids won with salmon and sorbet

The neighborhood adults, kids and such
Have become my parents, sisters and brothers
And we kids know we can’t get away with much
Because we have about six fathers and mothers.


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.