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FIG PRESERVES

In a scrap book:

Funny picture
   (A little boy wearing nothing
      But Daddy's shoes),

And a fig leaf
  (From our garden, I've forgotten
      Where we lived then).

Being five I
   Was unabashedly naked,
      Proud in those shoes!

Daddy was a 
   Stiff-necked look-up back then and
       Look up I did!
 

And that fig leaf-
   (That was later; I'd've been eight)
          We made preserves.

I just remembered,
  I stole some preserves, and got my
     Bare bottom spanked,

For the first time
   I was embarrassed, self-conscious.
      I remember still!

Where're Daddy's shoes?
   I think they might fit now, maybe? No?
      It doesn't matter--

My innocence
   Wore them out I think, or maybe
       Ran off in them?