Mirage ~ 1

Reshaping the past 

gilds our memories with honey ~ details waver where only warm feelings remain from one lost summer walking barefoot along a dirt road lined with ditches filled with heavy headed grasses, powdery soft dirt dusting my toes with warmth, 

afternoon sun on my hair and shoulders,

a dribble of perspiration rolling down my back. 

the feeling of being alone and free ~

united with the wide spread land.

a single human child walking pensively with 

only the lowering sun, a grumbling distant tractor,
the rustle and rattle of ripening wheat and 
a single meadowlark bidding good night to the land.

A singular oneness never felt in the crowded cities. 

Even as evening folds into night,

when the streetlights hurt my eyes,,

never ending traffic ruffles the pavement,
a distant fog horn sounds it's watery presence

I long for the starlight and silence of the prairies.

“These are the quicksilver moments of my childhood 

I cannot remember entirely. Irresistible and emblematic, 

I can recall them only in fragments and shivers of the heart.”

~ Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides