those days the sun flew like corn flour
freshly ground at the mill’s race
even in winter it was yellow
when I pressed it down with my thumb
as if it were an unfastened button on my chest

I cut my way hardly with a club
through the tall weed field
until my knee high socks
were filled with thistle tassels
jumping over the fence like a thief
so no one knew where I was

when the Big Dipper rose over the barn
I slipped on the manger’s opening
inside freshly cut grass
stealing my grandma’s small chair for milking
singing for the young foal with a star on its front

those days all hearts were red and warm
in the shape of a ginger bread heart
each star was a story
whispered by fairies in the daffodils’ glade

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Post navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at

%d bloggers like this: