The Sand Hill Review               http://www.sandhillreview.org 2010

Snapshots from Childhood

Helping my mother mix coloring into white margarine with a

fork—

this is how I know the war

Pop lifts me up to see robin’s eggs, the nest tucked in a tall corner

of the porch—curious, but so high

He steps right over the fence on stilts my brother got for his

birthday—

we all laugh

And brings snapping turtles taken from the highway; they dwell

in the basement, and we go down to feed them lettuce

Baba skims suds from the top of the washer, lets me carve shapes,

and waft them about

Standing by the side of the house, I blow a plastic bird whistle

thinking to fool the yardman

I lie over a large plastic ball, sprawling, all afternoon looking

for four-leaf clovers

We dig a deep hole behind the garage, cover it with boards, keep

the little kids out

Summer heat, in boxer shorts my brother and I bathe in the

backyard
in aluminum tubs

When I wore the red straw fireman’s hat, I was invisible; I hid

behind the lamppost just as the light changed

Meredith Ittner