I often write things
that I fear are not worth reading
So, I tuck them neatly away
Fragile thoughts folded in upon themselves
The words fade and the pages yellow
As a memory floats into view
*
…of being ten years old
picking blackberries
in a blazing Texas summer sun
no clouds, no shade, no wind
while my cheeks burn red
my pail remains nearly empty
as i search endlessly
hand to mouth
for the One…
you know which I mean
the One that brightens your lips
in a triumphant juicy smile
of sweet buried treasure
once lost
now found
I eat far more than I put in my pail
it remains nearly empty
so tomorrow
there will be no cobbler
or biscuit jam
tonight
there will be no need of dinner
or dessert
only a cool bath gently run
to soothe my fiery skin
the search was everything
it filled me and fed me
left me weary
in the nicest of ways
sleep will surely come
claiming me for its restful own…
*
Tucked away somewhere
Are some yellowed pages bearing faded words
That I should wander through
It is time
To take them out of hiding
Unfold them
And see if anything has ripened
Sweet enough
To fill a nearly empty pail
Perhaps,
In the morning
We shall have biscuits with blackberry jam
And in the evening
Warm cobbler with cold ice cream
And after that,
When the stars come forth to shine
And the fireflies begin their nightly tango
We shall sleep the weary peaceful sleep
Of being ten years old
At the end of a perfect summer’s day
****
ellie894 June 4, 2019
ellie894 