Sometimes I wonder

if I even survived
my childhood.

Maybe some part of me
is sleeping
up on the hill.

One of those
Nightmares
That I couldn't escape
Carried me off
In its jaws

and so maybe
I am planted.
Looking down
At all the people
I can't remember.

I hope that I am ashes.
I never wanted a stone.

Pintos and cornbread with a dab of pepper jelly
Walt Whitman poetry from a favorite chair
Hazelnut coffee with rousing jazz guitar ,
eating Manzanilla olives straight out of the jar
Rhyme and verse , raising the daily bar of affection
for Mary Ellen , walking the wood-line at night
"Chillin' in the vehicle of quietude*" ....

Kiddie pool adventures and...

Adults
Adults in red lab coats
They make jokes
Saying they want your eyes cause they look like eggs
Adults like yolks
They talk funny too
They call themselves folks
What I would give to be an adult
I could drive to see some people
Picture day and more
No more boring girl galore
But before I grow up I want kiddie pool adventures and dances in the mirror
Kitchen clean up from pancake disasters 
I want to run faster
You start slow 
Speed up and slow down
I want to fall down 
Get lost on a bus somewhere
Make mistakes
Fall in love 
More than once
Sit in silence
Have my own rock concerts
I want to live and become an adult
Then I'll live some more

Did you know that a stand of aspen trees
Is one of the largest living organisms in the world.
I don't know if you've ever seen them
but the pale white of their paper bark
and the bright yellow of their leaves
just reminds me of waking up
on the first snow day
as a child and running out, pure joy, into the snow
until fingers turn frozen
then running in to warm them
and back out again
and you are random facts
and snowflakes
and favorite things.

some referrals a reward once in the while
for just continuing to fight
a nice word to take home to gather
in late at night alone
praise and a pat on the back ,
a hug kiss more
once and 'gain
a night of good conversation a
look like we are desirable humans
that sly come hither thing with passion for us
candles and rose petals and morning kisses
and  excitement
a little champagne and dancing
breath on our ear
swaying and feel of another being
feeling just like we do
connecting
or just someone
liking us
it
so
much
matters

Another day falling
from the crack of yesterday,

a patch of pearl
burning in the amber west
flaring up heaven
firing me up
in the pains of solitude
and poetry.

Home beckons through a dark way
where hope breathes eternal
as lanterns of moonlit leaves.

I won't mourn the loss
but fill all the void
with paper and ink.