We came to visit the land where
November winds were
colder than a whisper of icicles

a family home of fallen timbers
weather-ravaged
dropped into a neat package of crumpled
newspapers and window shards
a sanctuary for mice and
other creatures
sky peeking through apple trees
pussy willows alongside
a muddy bank - an album
of memories.

Our childhood swam in that
creek after
chasing cows
feeding pigs
minding the chickens
helping momma and poppa
busy with chores. Then we grew into
city folk a long time ago.

to be a child
with good parents
holding me
tightly
preparing lunch
when I have needs
taking me places
where growth
in mind and spirit
satisfy me

an inquiring child
with new clothes
to show off
the DNA
inside of me
protection
from nasty women
and strange men
as I get older.

Then when I
am in adulthood
there will
be enough lessons
learned to share
and especially how
to make peanut butter
and banana-sliced
sandwiches
my own
survival plan.