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Call Me Home
Angela Hoffman


A simpler time–
The neighborhood houses lined the street,
interspersed with small family farms.
Ours was a gray ranch.
Nothing about it stood out,
like all the other homes of the working fathers.
So little time was spent inside them.
Barbed wire fences kept the pastures in check,
but not always the cows–
or the five of us.
We were an unlikely mix;
our friendship formed by the proximity of our homes.
We wiggled under on our bellies,
trying to avoid the shock,
in search of hickory nuts and buttercups,
mudpies and cow pies.
It was there we spent our days climbing the oaks,
making forts from downed limbs,  
skating the frozen ponds,
while our mothers, at home,
never worried about our whereabouts.
The days sprawled wide and long
until the streetlights called us home.

© by Angela Hoffman.
Used with the author’s permission.


Angela Hoffman lives in rural Wisconsin. The pandemic and her retirement coincided, making the time ripe for writing poetry, so Angela committed to writing a poem a day during the pandemic. In addition to writing, she enjoys hiking, yoga, gardening, reading, finding treasures at second-hand stores, and spending time with her two grandchildren—"the best treasures of all,” she confirms!

Post New Comment:
Oh, Angie, this is such a treasure. It took me right back. It is so true that we were an "unlikely mix". Yet we had tons of fun roaming those acres of oaks and buttercups, building log forts with fence posts, and making parachute dolls from the long grasses and weeds. Our lives have taken us 1000's of miles away from each other, and one even to heaven, but this has brought us together again, for a brief frolic through Memory Lane. -- "Barbie"
Posted 08/09/2022 03:41 AM
Electric fences! There is one in my neighborhood that I grab each time I walk by to see if it is turned on.
Posted 08/07/2022 06:06 PM
Lori Levy:
I identify with this, too. We were always outside in my childhood in Vermont.
Posted 08/06/2022 11:13 AM
Kay N. Sanders:
I ploughed right in to this poem without taking note of the author, and I thought, "Oh, my goodness! This is one of my childhood friends writing this!Not until I reached the "frozen ponds" part that I knew it wasn't, since I was raised in the South. Thanks for a lovely trip back into the days of childhood.
Posted 08/06/2022 10:31 AM
Just lovely.
Posted 08/06/2022 10:01 AM
Wilda Morris:
Air conditioning and television combined to change life for children (and adults), in not altogether good ways! Thanks for the memories.
Posted 08/06/2022 08:36 AM
Larry Schug:
this feels like a portrayal of my childhood. Don't you feel sorry for kids these days, their lives so scheduled by the conscientious and necessary anxieties of parents in today's society? I very much enjoy this poem. It has that magical ingredient that I call "texture".
Posted 08/06/2022 08:35 AM
Holy Cow Pies! Wonderful poem, Angela, same things took place in my life on farms in central Illinois. Thank you.
Posted 08/06/2022 08:30 AM
Joan Luther:
Friendship formed by the proximity of our homes is so true! Thank you for the memories!
Posted 08/06/2022 08:06 AM
Beautiful poem! Makes me think of all sorts of childhood memories spent during days like you describe!
Posted 08/06/2022 06:51 AM

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