Look!
©1997
Cornstalks shoulder their way out from between the beans of my memory.
My mother’s garden sits there, dominating my childhood home.
Among the corn and beans,
the peas and the squash,
my brother and I
made intricate
waterways,
and ran the hose.
Don’t wash away the dirt!
We built locks.
Sailboats floated
down our muddy Mississippi.
Paddleboats
Steamships
and the occassional ear of corn
oops
or a pea pod.
I went back to the farm again.
Cornstalks shoulder their way out from between the weeds.
They stand silent guard beside the chicken wire fence.
Electric
Don’t touch it!
not anymore.
The weeds hold our snaking waterways in place.
I like to think so.
The green-boxes nearby have fallen inwards,
and the pond stands lonely among the reeds and
reeds grow on land and their ears are yellow
sweet
sticky fingers
sticky faces covered in butter and salt on
a summer evening listening
crickets.
crimson west.
royal skies
Look – it’s the evening star!
Where?
Up there above our beds
our backyard
our down sleeping bags
and french toast in the morning.
I don’t like french toast!
what is it?
bread and eggs.
I don’t like eggs.
The sky – Look!
I went back to the farm.
The treehouse still sits atop the old dead…
and now it’s alive
hornets.
and the cornstalks shoulder their way
to the front of my memory. Not out.
In.