Latchkey Kids (a poem)

LATCHKEY KIDS

It was years before I realized they meant

us. We were pre-teens with keys,

unlocking doors, preparing supper,

riding bicycles without helmets –

without a thought for safety.

We roughed our way across the creek,

through the woods, never worried

about tics. We climbed to the top

of the old oak and ripped our pants

on the way down. Played

hide & seek until sunset, or until

someone’s mom yelled “Dinner!”

We stumbled back through the front door

trailing the scent of sweat and freedom.

Maybe we washed up, did some homework,

maybe we watched tv. Whatever we did

after we let ourselves in, we felt

safe as houses.

*****

Photo by Silas Köhler on Unsplash