Her Prairie – April 3, 2019

I hold this little memory

In the palm of my hand

A box that lurches open

With the snap of a band

Always dusty 

And filled with her scent

Flowers and the breeze.

She grew a small garden

In the back corner of our yard

Lilies of the valley were her favorite

With spicy pops of orange petals peeking

In between

Tall grasses framed the edging

While Baby’s breath breathed life into her nest.

And a delicate blue bloom

smelled so delicious 

It made me swoon

She dressed me up

Her own exquisite doll

Brushed my long hair 

Smooth, always wild

She wrapped me up in bright cloth 

Sewn by her hand

A pretty little sun dress

orange and in command

And stuck me with her broach

a tiny lady bug so meek

Smeared me with blue eye shadow

And sat me amongst her prairie

The sun was shining down

Setting me aglow

Whispering to herself softly

As she reached out

touching me so tender

She smiled and froze the moment

I did not notice then

But it is clear to me now

The light that day, belonged to her

she is my sun, and always will be. 

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