A Taste From My Childhood

Oh my god, I love that flavor
It's not often that I get a plum
That tastes quite like that
Really ripe and sweet
With just a hint of tartness
It's a taste that takes me
Back to my childhood

When I lived on Maness Drive
It was just a dirt road
Where my parents owned a corner lot
And there was a large plum tree
That stood at the edge of
My father's garden

I used to climb up in it
The fruit it produced
Were small but quite delicious
I recall walking barefoot
On the overripe fruit
That had fallen to the ground
And feeling the pulp
Squish up between my toes
And sometimes my brothers and I
Would have plum fights
And then get into trouble with Mom
For getting our clothes dirty
But it was still fun nevertheless

If it was the right time of year
When my grandparents came to visit
Grammy would always make plum jam
To this day I haven't found
Anyone else's that even comes
Close to what she used to make

I haven't thought about that tree
In a long time, we moved away
From there after I graduated high school
I've been back a time or two
The place doesn't even look the same
But that tree was still there
I wonder if it still is...

Funny the things that can trigger memories
And bring them floating up to the surface
To the consciousness of my mind
Like they were always there
And make it seem like
They'd never gone anywhere at all

Just another taste from my childhood

6.29.06