It catches me sometimes
when I’m unaware, when I
step out to feel the warmth
on my face, to hear the birds,
the bright air in full sun
that tastes of dirt and light,
like the earth after a blue-sky
rain — the taste of childhood.
That scent takes me to swings
and trees, to my Lemon Twist
and Big Wheel; those days
we ran our neighborhood
and every mother gave us
Kool-Aid and Popsicles.
We knew the schoolyard
after-hours as much as our
learned days spent looking
at chalk dust and sitting on
hard chairs, all those hours
we hung from monkey-bars,
hopscotched, sang out
Red-rover, and, inevitably,
all fell down.
—C.L. Fisher, October 2020
Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 