Oh yes!
\nI am seeing.
\nI am by the wall of a white house.
\nThe green chill of moss
\nunder a faucet.
\nI am three, perhaps four
\nsmelling apples by the window.
\nOur tree with its yellow fruit
\nrolling on the sandstone.
\nWatching the drip of water
\ncoming from the spigot
\nsunrise and lilacs,
\npussy willow.<\/p>\n
My bare feet on the grainy stone.
\nGrass full of dandelions.
\nA road of gravel,
\na spine of train tracks
\nin the middle.
\nI feel the air brush me,
\nhear my breathing.
\nLook at my small hands.
\nWhat have they touched?
\nI remember your legs
\nbruised with climbing.
\nAt the bottom of time,
\nthe cave under the pillow,
\nthe chirp of birds in the darkness.<\/p>\n
Oh little me!
\nSay hello to me!
\nTouch the bark of the apple tree,
\nhear your mother\u2019s voice
\ncalling to us.
\nSit on the porch
\nand watch trains go by.
\nCurl dandelion stems into rings.
\nThe day never closes,
\nsounds keep calling.
\nThe sky is blue as morning glory
\nand I wonder what becomes of us.
\nOr who sees me
\nwatching you,
\nand who sees us,
\nwatching us.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Oh yes! I am seeing. I am by the wall of a white house. The green chill of moss under a faucet. I am three,…<\/p>\n