Maybe I’m just a land lover
feet laid one step at a time on
solid ground.
Terrain easy enough to be
betrayed by a false sense
of security.
Better than the muck n’ weeds
swaying at the lake bottom
quick to wrap my ankles
I remember when
Toes in mud was the good goo
slopping up over little naked feet
cool and thick like treacle
After a hard rain.
Tracks of wet brown earth
trailed through the kitchen
and the chase n’ holler of mother
snapping her wet rag
Child days rolling in nature
mud and trees, and plastic
swimming pools. The race to
get home with the street light glow
The parade of bicycles with
cards clipped to spokes in the
rat tat tat of our race down
the street to anywhere and everywhere
Hard to know why
Little droplets of fear gathered slow
at little girl edges pooling at her feet
A pond of muck and weeds hard to see.
No longer the puddle after a good rain
And feet that left no more brown earth
on the kitchen floor for mother’s holler
Still the race to ride that bicycle
fast and hard to the faraway
Rest beneath the lone white pines
letting the prickle of the earth
and the smell of heaven fill the
what can’t be seen or understood
I’ll float on grass and green
I’ll row my way through fields of corn
I’ll swim in the wind and stare at
the faces in clouds and feel the Earth
make love to me
I LOVE this Jeanne
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thanks Jackie…remember those days?
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