Six years in asphalt and
stucco deserts,
Summer days that were little
miracles
Wrought with small glorious
adventures of
Puddle jumping in damp concrete
channels,
These spawned green slime,
tadpoles and you.
Greater adventures ensued
the day
when your mother and grandfather
reconciled
In the land painted green
with ensemble trees
Where silt colored sod flavored
rivers
Meets the chilled blue of
salted ocean,
Here layed the memories
of her first years.
Here ripe black fruit
explodes from thick fierce brambles
Splashing your toddler belly with summer’s blood.
Briar scratched arms
tattooed with natures wine
Race to fill your lustful little
mouth with hordes
of swollen flesh bursting with sweet tart juice,
the gleeful revelry in air amassed.
Upon the apple wood roasts pink orange fish
And calcium castles that pop to share
Wet grey flesh less their lucent stone,
One missing treasure that could make these days
Last til weeping ceases and joys abound.
Long tendrils of grey
green moss wave ghostly
In weathered knotty
pine boughs brushed
By salty ocean breezes
mulled with fish,
Herald a starlit evening
of chat,
As waves of
reconciliation wash
Across the shore to sweep away the foot-
prints of familial
schism and regret.
