easter morning, happily the church bells ring. 

a precious, brown-eyed girl in a pinafore dress, 

her hand in her daddy’s big, rough one, and he smiles. 

and he sings, old church hymns he knows by heart: 

“softly and tenderly Jesus is calling.” 

 

supple grass beneath bare, dirty feet.

bruised knees and skinned elbows. 

mosquito bites dotting supple, soft skin, 

the calamine lotion sickly pink, 

souvenirs of the outside, of open air, of freedom. 

 

candy leftover from halloween, 

sticky fingers and a stickier smile. 

a costume—a princess, a pretty, pretty princess! 

the warm smells of holiday cooking, 

comfort that you eat, and you drink. 

 

a pink puffer jacket and a cold, red nose 

dead tree limbs rocking in crisp, cool air 

just enough frost on the ground to get out of school

the sound of christmas carols and boots crunching leaves

the look of a sludgy snowman made from wishful thinking and icy snow 

 

the makings of a year so pure, 

the caricatures of a childhood in seasons