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Poem

The golden sun of yesterday
played out in fields of gold 
inside the tarping memory of father, handling LIFE   
the joyful whistles that he fluted pruned alongside vines 
and mothers pumping heart of song lauding in 
loud and STRONG  
No treason yet no aging bridge no tented hope   
just morning glories,
a baby breath away from here 
and  all the sunlight we'd afford 
inside a little yard of sweet explore, 

I see, 

the lonely eyes of a young girl longing for a friend 
a hand held jar for fireflies or butterflies in toe 
Pebbles rolled beneath unpaved paths as 
dear together raw as butterflies we scabbed our knees  
with swivel, in the morning breeze
Like BUTTERFLIES preluding dawn with shiant colors bold,   
the summer sun of yesterday played out in fields of gold;  

Inside my hiding place a youthful carefree life 
still lingers in my heart's enfold, 
without the memory, of growing old.    

Jan 19, 2019
Sponsor: Emile Pinet 
Contest: Free Verse Style Only

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