childhood

when I think
of being a kid
suddenly I smell
fresh-cut grass
hear the mourning dove
moan

I smell
wood smoke
and am comforted
damp earth
the sound of rain drops
on forest leaves

pine needles
were a bed
on which to nap
in the back yard
while the bark dripped
of christmas sap

the musty barn
old wood
smelled of dirt
pain chips in the grass
at the entrance
an anomaly in the city

creaky stiars
led to mysteries
in the loft
saturated with spirits
of the dead
in army green

banana seat bicycle
I was a racing star
hearing the cheers
of my fans
as I crossed the line
first

the crackle of
a needle on vinyl
squeezing out music
in the grooves
music that filled
all the empty spaces
and let me fly
on fairy dust

and let me dream

Ii was a super hero
I was the first woman president
I was a leader
that saved the world
from itself

I heard the sadness
in the dove's song
but I also heard the hope
imagined the wind
on its wings

after all, it could fly

and now I hear it
up in the trees
on a late summer evening
reminding me of treasures

simplicity

reminding me
to dream