My hometown

 Homegrown 

I was born In Milwaukee, Wis,

but, brother let me tell you this,

every piece of growth I’d make

was fostered near Okauchee Lake.

There were elm trees then,

before the disease,

and for the first ten years,

it was a life of peace and ease.

They still do fish fry

on Friday nights,

make Old Fashioned’s,

dim the lights,

but now it’s not perch,

mostly frozen cod,

too many potato choices,

and yes, by God,

they also serve- and this 

should be against the law,

healthy salads instead of

that creamy cole slaw.

Sundays were church and a picnic,

folks needing a breather,

but no picnics during the winter,

and sometimes, not the church part either.

The elm trees are gone now,

but even so,

there are others we planted before

we knew the elms would go.

No one talked about social issues,

I guess for that time it was all right,

racism was not yet a topic, 

the neighbors were, of course, all white.

We were worried about the Russkies,

some built shelters underground,

but as far as I know,

no Red Scare was ever found.

We had other things to fear,

like polio and iron lungs and braces,

or the drunken dentist or smoking doctor,

mumbling, blowing smoke into our faces.

The lake had its mysteries,

ate a person or two every year,

but we all learned to swim early on,

so we had nothing to fear.

That lake was everything to us,

source of fun and food,

a place of joyful recreation,

nothing about it that wasn’t greater than good.

For my first ten years there,

it was all smiles, never a frown.

To this day, decades on, I remain grateful

for Okauchee, my hometown.