imagination

When I was little, I lived in Alberta, in a house built by my father and mother. At the back of the house was a veranda. Below the veranda was a big vegetable garden, full of corn and pumpkins and mint. At the end of the garden, was a power pole, used by my mother as a clothes pole.

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my mom and I in the garden … the clothes pole is in the far left of the photo, at the end of the garden

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On laundry day, my mother hung the wet clothing on a line stretching between the house and the pole. As she hung the laundry, I would play at the end of the garden, under my mother’s watchful eye.

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But I was not where she supposed me to be. Instead, I was off on some imaginary adventure. One place I would go —  into the cave beneath the rocks around the base of the clothes pole. In my imagination, the cave led to a tunnel, running under the garden and weaving between roots of pumpkin and mint. I don’t remember what I ‘saw’ in the world I entered or any of the adventures I must have had. Imagination can take you anywhere!

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laundry day

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mint splashes, fresh

against the wall

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her mother pins

clothes to the line

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shirts dance towards

pole at the end

of the garden,

a pole covered

in pumpkin vine

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where a small girl

skips, turns her chin

towards blue sky

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where rainbow begins

and ends,

on the green hill,

entry to cave,

hidden from sun

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and the girl skips

slower, slower

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follows tunnel

under garden

between tendrils

of ripe pumpkin

and root of mint

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and above earth,

her mother pins

clothes to the line

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All my best,

Jane