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Poem

Dusty and distraught the afternoon laid out 
like a sun-shaped jewel ahead of us. 
Our marble eyes will fill up with salty tears
and the rivers will swell until they drown
the glittering meadows in madness. 
Our screen door summers will be like 
shattered blue china and so we will trudge 
through the day lilies and clementines 
alongside the infinite stretches of powerlines
that run the hillsides. 

We are the late bloomers and the daydreamers.
The ding dong ditchers and the hide and
seekers. The hopscotchers and leap froggers.
Living among the star magnolias and mimosas.
Our sun drenched world was full of fragrant
bursts of flowers and pink clusters of fluff.
Spongy moss and delicate wisps of grass
served as our place to nap, right there below
the copper stained sunsets. 

Take me back to the days we poured cherry
soda over our vanilla ice cream and crunched 
on crushed ice. The evenings we gathered 
sticks to burn as defense against the insects
and mosquitoes. There was never an issue
with illness and that was all thanks to the
tablespoon of apple cider vinegar we consumed
daily. The best stories were told while sitting 
in rocking chairs on the front porch. We chased
chicken hawks like wild hyenas and made up
our own special calls whenever we lost each 
other in the woods. 

It seems we all lost track of time during all
those fights and parties and birthdays and
graduations and baby showers and weddings. 
It seems all we have left of those days are
photographs and scars. Maybe even a little 
heartache. But one thing is for sure,

we left our mark.

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