The Fort
B
Barry Middleton
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It was our multi-purpose shack,
the playhouse of my early youth.
The fort was a place
to carry out childish experiments
and a place to hide
from the secret torments
of growing up.
There was chemistry there,
old fashioned bottles
that once held pills and potions.
Green ones, blue, brown and clear,
some were oddly shaped,
the trademark of a mighty tonic.
There was protection there,
a door to close
against the tyranny of schoolwork
and chores and worry.
The fort smelled of the earth
that was its foundation.
I learned there
about the solubility
of talcum powder,
about brotherhood
and what it feels like
to pause a while
and wonder
and pretend.
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