The Caterpillar Tree, In Grandpa's Backyard

At Grandpa's old house, in the warm summer backyard,

as the sun was setting, was the beloved caterpillar tree, being played and laughed about.

We would all climb, play and touch on the growing glorious tree.

The big, fat, fuzzy caterpillars were crawling all over that thing.

It was as if the tree had glue on it and none of the caterpillars could get off.

We would stand so your eyes were at the caterpillars point of view,

 and stick our finger right in front of their soft, flimsy, little bodies, 

hoping they would crawl on to our fingers.

If they did, their sticky little body would cling to our finger, as we giggled about, not able to stand the tickling sensation. 

Don't squirm too much, or the poor thing will tumble to the grass, only to land and start slithering away again.

I'll never forget the way those caterpillars inched about, at Grandpa's old house.

I Have Everything In Life

I have everything; and life.

I have morning fog and cold crunchy grass.

I have screaming tea kettles, waiting for me.

I have my friends that laugh with me, 

that annoy me, so I choose them.

I have my cozy home that reminds me of my father.

I have grieving places I wish were gone, until I put them to use.

I have sadness and discomfort that tries to eat my thoughts.

I have a loving family that accepts me for being me.

I have everything.

I have questions as my mind blends together making my thinking ambiguous.

I have a face that I can show my feelings inside, showing people my grudges.

I have a book that I feel like I'm living in as soon as I open the page.

I have a school where I get my education from, each teacher telling me important life skills.

I have an instructor who understands me and my horse, helping me become a better rider.

I have everything.

I have long frizzy blond hair, inherited from my mom.

I have soft brown eyes given to me from my dad.

I have lots of hand-me-downs from all my older friends.

I have all these things that make me who I am.

I have everything in life.

Truce

Telephone rings,

Ravins sing, 

Universe twirling,

Creativity exploded,

Ends in golden letters, never forget me.

Juniper

Jellybeans melt,

Upper sky falls, 

Not able America,

Infinitesmall dust ,

Pony ride Sundays,

Enough rain in summer,

Roughly secret giggles.

A Special Sound

The sound of a red laced dress flash as it dances in the snap of midnight. The sound of the kiss of rain as it ripples into a puddle.  A glass a drum trembling as it chants a rhythm. The whisper of the whirl of wind as it slices the snowy lights.  The ripe blare of thunder.  The bubble of giggles in burning laughter.  A rubbery roar like an icicle cracking.  A glittering trumpet like a warm, round, stomp, soft yet loud and thumping.  A fire that pops and spirals and hisses at the warm air tunneling toward it.  A screech of a twisting bone in the dead, hot desert.  A sound splintering into souls.  A perfect lime growling with sour, prickly, chalkiness.  The sound of a splash of scarlet paint as it lashes the page in shadows.

Dare To Dream

Finding one infinitesmall piece of ground salt, 

as it swiftly hobbles along carrying dreams of endless light. 

Don't let there be sorrowing scissors as another salt grain leaps a pit 

of the never ending of the pounding on a roof. 

A moment when salty seaweed is getting pulled back by a fiasco of force, 

then the ocean gives in and the next wave clatters the sand and the stretched seaweed 

disolves to bubbles of sweet peaches.

 Running to the top of a city, but I looked and saw green scales, 

my feet felt like sinking in quick sand, then the burning sensation of my melting boots 

stuck in tar.

Decisions made a purple bus that floated over puddles of soft pudding. 

Then staring at the hills of farms, as a hay bail crackled into an animals den. 

My feet hit the dusty ground and I ran. A sound behind me like boulders breaking was following me. I turned my head, but my body collided with the dirt. My face  turned brown as I lay in complete silence. Suddenly I jumped up, as if my heart had turned off for a second, then right back on.

Though I tried to move my legs faster, it seemed like time had slowed down around me 

and I was swimming in oil. Then I trudged into a scratchy cement brick wall 

and came stumbling out the other side, this time swimming in easy thin water.

 I found myself walking through a familiar green grass patch, the smell of daisies at my nose.

  

I sat on a cake colored bridge and watched the clouds, until the day I touched them.