A Reflection of Youth
Heart filled with happiness, eyes much merry; cheeks color strawberry,
just running through fields of ripe huckleberry,
keeping away from the buzzing, restless bees...
going to a from their sweet hives hanging from massive apple trees.
More than childhood memories, such are these...
a reflection of youth that removes them from nostalgia; husky peasants
shaking off the husks from the golden corn;
a tasty, hot corn meal for those winter's dinners drooling on my tongue.
And approaching a torrent, I threw pebbles found on its almost barren banks
back into the spattering water that I drank sporadically until I was full,
to indulge in its freshness...squashing tiny daisies
that seemed too afraid to squabble with a giant and fight for their survival.
The southern landscape with its mild climate, was rich and fragrant,
inviting hands to pluck the delicious, tempting fruits
off their branches, scattering the thrushes engaged in musical tones;
and I tongue-tied hurried along cogitating an instant.
Would it be too childish to ask for a come-back,
to relive the cheerfulness of the oldest days, ceased by time and age;
to observe a reflection of youth take shape...
and embed, in a secret, a conversation regardless of present knowledge?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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