by Leigh Sugar
Ann Arbor, 1999
After sweaty September soccer practice, only a cone from Sweet Memories —
Blue Moon — will do. It’s kind of like bubblegum mixed with
cotton candy. Maybe cotton candy flavored bubblegum? I never
don’t get sprinkles. You need the sprinkles. Anyways, who
else goes to Borders just to look at the CD covers? Vitamin C is so
famous right now for that song about moving on. It’s called
“Graduation.” They said we’ll all sing it at the end of 5th grade. Have you
heard it? I think it’s violins at the beginning. We’ll get the lyrics from the
iMacs in the computer room. The blue ones are my favorite. Yesterday in gym we
jump roped and Eric B fell down on his butt. We all laughed but Ms.
K. got mad and made us put everything away. We spent the rest of gym
looking at each other all weird ‘cuz she told us to sit in a circle and be quiet. The New
Millenium is coming. 2000. Katie’s mom asked if her if she wanted to stock up on
Nutter Butters and Pop Tarts at the store. They have this huge basement where
overflow food goes. She has three brothers so I guess they eat a lot. I’m
pretty sure my parents aren’t stocking up on anything. Maybe water. Mom
quotes Dr. Seuss: The more that you read, the more things you will know.
Reading is her favorite hobby. I guess it’s mine, too. I think
she probably thinks books are more important than Pop Tarts or other
treats. Katie and me both want to be doctors, like her dad and my parents. Harvard
University and then Johns Hopkins for medical school, we’ve pinky-promised.
Vet’s pool in the summer when we’re home for break. Home will always be here.
We both go to Wines. It’s the best. Except the day she ran into a pole and got an
x-ray at the hospital ‘cuz her eye bone got bruised. That was first grade. This
year, we’re older. Next year is Forsythe, and then high school. We don’t need help with
zippers. We’re too busy for jackets anyway. Watch. We can run so fast—
carpet nostalgia, from the children’s section of Borders.
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Leigh Sugar (she/her) recently returned to Ann Arbor, where she was raised, after ten years. She loves walking around her Packard neighborhood with her pup Elmo when she’s not writing. She is the author of Freeland: Poems (Alice James Books). “Abecedarian at Nine” is a tribute and memory of growing up in Ann Arbor from the perspective of a nine year old in the year 1999. “Home will always be here.”
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This is an original poem, brought to you by Poet Tree Town, an Washtenaw-based poetry-in-public initiative and celebration of local poets. Find out more about Poet Tree Town on Instagram and Facebook, or say hello at [email protected].
