Prickle Grass and Shortcake Child

As a small girl I would sit and watch dandelions grow and pet cats with sticky hands, I just had to document that.

There was a time

when my place was

at the foot of the driveway

sitting tight against the

mailbox post.

Prickle grass ate through

my sundresses

the ones mother had so

carefully sewn

until the small patches

of my knee caps

had stained

bright green.

Naked toes

wiggled together

intertwining themselves

with soft

dandelion stems.

Soft palms

filled with blueberries

refused to feed the cat as it

cried and rubbed against my legs.

I ate shortcake

in the afternoon sun

the tin foil casing

folded back

pink juice trickling into my lap.

Sticky and smiling

I ambled back home

when it got dark

but could not bring myself

inside the house.

Just steps from the door

I laid on my back

as an entire world

of endless stars

danced just for me.

A growly stomach

turned into sleep

and those stained palms

became imprinted

with the prickle grass.