I gather buckeyes.
\nChildhood burns in me.
\nA star never flaming out.
\nI gather what belongs to me.
\nWhat was made for me,
\nto run after in the grass.
\nA moon in a rosewood face.
\nThe all seeing,
\neverlasting eye.
\nThat\u2019s what a buckeye is.
\nThat\u2019s what it\u2019s meant to be.
\nA brilliant stone,
\nbeautiful as a woman\u2019s cheek.
\nTo last as long
\nas an autumn day can last.
\nGathering the wondrous seeds
\nof the buckeye tree.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I gather buckeyes. Childhood burns in me. A star never flaming out. I gather what belongs to me. What was made for me, to run…<\/p>\n