Get your own Free HomepageThe bitter taste of dandelions on my fingers
After picking a pretty bouquet for Mommy.
The smell of mother and the sound of her heart
And the feel of her soft belly on my face.
The sound of rain on the windowpane
Accompanying old tunes on the badly tuned piano.
The feel of grass and gravel on bare feet
Running through the driveway and fields.
Feeling Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy from Spinning, spinning, spinning
around and around and around until falling down, down, down.
Soft kittens with sharp claws and sandpaper tongues
Climbing on my back or cuddling in my lap.
A big white church through raindrops on the windshield,
And red and white checks soft against my face and over my eyes.
The crunch of the sugar
From the bottom of the cereal bowl.
Soft, loose skin between my gentle little fingers,
Holding a beautiful withered hand.
The smell of the grass as I lay face down in a field,
Dizzy from rolling, rolling, rolling down the hill.
Stirring weeds in a bowl, as though I were
Going to make flour and bread.
The crunch of colorful leaves underneath bare feet
And tossed leaves, falling over my face and in my hair.
So much heat on my face I could barely tolerate
To stay and watch the fascinating flickering crackling fire.
Cold, cold wood floors beneath my bare feet
In the old, old house in the wintertime.
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