Monday, September 17, 2012

being a little (more or less)

memories of being a little kid are my favorite things to recall.  everything is blurred, i'm no longer sure of reality.  its mixed with the quality of my six year old mind.  tinted with the thought process of third grade.

black and white reel of film
pencil sketch grey
it was a dream: better than any memory
stray colours blur,
sunset clouds on the horizon of the sky.
we followed music that sounded like chimes
or wind
that song we used to hum when we were five.

treble notes flew like blackbirds,
feathers in the glint of noon:  they were golden.
sung slow, floated breezy
tasted like honey on my tongue.
you held my hand across the grass
eyes the colour of shadow.
nighttime, a breath of ash
light fades to the raindrop bright of stars
one falls.
i catch it in my mouth,
swallow my water wish
everything i know, mere reflection
thoughts upon the sea.
ageless days of other worlds inside me,
full of the taste of cold fire, naive as ever
i'll always be.

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