Wake

Your tracks
My mourning
The end of a dream.

Upon Visiting the Old House

My tears were not a cry, but a song

The song of today devouring yesterday –

Equal parts lamentation

And celebration.

I cried because I could again

Sense the pulse of my first kiss

Taste icicles plucked from the patio roof

See the snowman stand sentinel

Beyond my gossamer curtains

Watch my dreams bounce playfully

Atop bright allium balls

Along the garden, stopping now and then

To chase hummingbirds among the lilies

Of the valley of my youth

Start a fried chicken food fight, fling

Mashed potatoes on the freckled face

Of my first friend

Prick our thumbs with rose thorns

Blood sisters

Smile hello all summer to so many

Red cheeks

Gapped teeth

And sun-peeled

Shoulders

Comrades in walnut wars

And hopscotch battles

I swore I’d never forget

(But did)

I cried because I missed my tomboy knees and caveman soles –

I missed my soul –

There is no childhood

Like a barefoot one.