“Gertrude’s Passing” YWF 2015

Nothing ever exists, you never hear a sound, if anyone enters, they never return. My grandmother told me a man named Gertrude once lived in that house. I passed by everyday, and always walked a little faster as I passed, of course I didn’t want anyone to know that I was scared of the Gertrude house, so I made it a game. It was called Gertrude’s Passing, who ever ran the fastest always won, and would not be the one who got eaten. As we continue down the long winding path to the Downtown Grocery store, we see an army tank. My friends and I stop for a moment, and I write a poem which reads,

Rusty, tired and worn

a new vehicle was born

it does not have horn

for that a crazy person might mourn

its tires big enough to climb

I somehow made this whole thing rhyme.

It wasn’t used to commit a crime,

but for a battle against time.

We finally reach the Grocery store, inside I see a tiny old store, shelves that looked as though they had been used many times, the lady’s at the counter were nice, but it seemed as though they did not realize they had a foul mouth. As we checked out, we remembered it was time for church. We walk inside, but no one was there, tic toc as silence begins to spread along each wall of the huge church. The town small but the church, mighty and strong. There are stairs as you enter, that make you feel like a princess as you’re walking down them, and instantly you feel free. Before I go up the stairs I admire the walls that were white, with painted gold trim, and the light fixtures shaped like a crown. The stain glass windows and the sunroof that made the sun glow inside. When you enter into the doors it opens to pews and the rest of the church. It’s breath taking. After church, we walk back to our house, which was right next to the scary house. Again I pretend not to be scared, but I quickly walk past the sidewalk. My friends whisper, psst, let’s get out of here. The clouds darken and we hear a loud noise, an old man, skinny to the bone, with long pointy fingers, he yelled something I couldn’t quite understand, but we screamed and ran, Gertrudes passing, I cannot stand. The next morning i walked along what seemed like the edge of a bright orange sunset. I sat and glimpsed at the sky blue water, that sat still with steam rising as the bright orange sun was a stove heating a pot of water. I sat in the tall limerick colored grass under a large shade tree, as I thought of life literally rising in front of me. I could smell the scent of lilacs and tulips popping up in the spring, and the smell of the april showers as they come upon. I could hear the beautiful Hector Red Birds as they sang their morning battle cry. The Hecktor Red Birds would later dance a ferocious dance, as if they too were going to war. When the sun is high in the sky and the other children and I run and play, I remember nothing but the  Gertrude Passing.


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