Indianola Avenue
I can’t speak for any other place
In the long history of the sordid human race
But all that I am and all that I do
Comes in part from growing up on Indianola Avenue
My Mother Martha Jane brought us there when I was three
And there we stayed till we were grown to be what we would be
Divorced, she worked just up the street at Kermits’ Village Hardware
It paid the rent and bought our food with not much more to spare
But we were happy, warm, and safe and seldom had a fear
The babysitters came and went – a new one every year
While Mother worked they gave us space to find out who we are
Exploring alleys and the High St. woods we trampled near and far
I felt the freedom of the time when no one locked their door
I think back now with a smile, we couldn’t have asked for more
At four o’clock Christmas morn all our wishes met with joy
For the hardware store where Mother worked also sold lots of toys
And the owner Kermit Hargis would never turn Mom down
For the credit to buy us every toy on every Christmas round
Throughout the years I worked there too, it’s where I learned my future trade
At ten I got a paper route which led to many escapades
At four on Sunday mornings I would ride my bike downtown
To pickup Sunday papers – but first I’d mess around
I’d climb up on the roofs of the buildings on the square
And try to catch a pigeon still asleep and nesting there
O’ the feeling of such freedom all alone before the dawn
Riding my bike on those empty streets or climbing alone before dawn
I did not feel the sting of war or protests in the streets
Still a child I played ‘Army’ while the Vietnam War ‘played’ on TV
There were always kids around to play; our street was full of noise
We often got some teams together for baseball, football or just boys being boys
But mostly I loved basketball – I played it all year long
There was nothing like the way I’d feel to hear that “swish”-ing song
But then at thirteen I discovered girls, or they discovered me
‘Hormone-driven’ I’d have to say – there was nothing stopping me
I had to have those sweet young things – at any cost I would later see
I lost all sight of what was right or the risk of pregnancy (that’s a whole other story)
The only thing I wanted more was to play drums in a band
And in the basement of our home is where it all began
With Baldwin, Ape, and Centimole we rocked the best we could
We thought we were so good and cool – a lot more than we should
From that damp beginning grew a dream that wouldn’t die
It burns me still the hope that I’ll make music sweet and high
To touch the souls of those who hear and open up their eyes
To greater truths and happiness to grow until they’re wise
For yes there was another side of me I failed to say
That grew among the rocks and soil on Indianola ‘Way’
A search for truth and meaning, a Christian ‘epiphany’
A dream of love unending, the way it was meant to be
A heart that felt too deeply the miseries of man
A mind that looked behind the myths of ‘freedom’ in this land
A spirit that rebelled against the evil ‘corporate’ world
Yet ended up its servant, his ‘freak flag’ now unfurled
So many things I learned there, so many memories
Frisbee with ol’ David Roach, with Chuck Butler climbing trees
Raising pigeons, chickens, hawks; so much was there to do
In that little house with its little yard, on Indianola Avenue
They say you can’t go home again but one thing that’s for sure
I’ll never forget those halcyon days we joyfully endured
Love shared with ones family and friends will never die
As long as we remember – in our hearts it will abide.
Thomas Theodore Welborn
12-31-07
© Copyright 2007, Thomas
Theodore Welborn All rights reserved.
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