Friday, June 4, 2010

Green Thumbs and Skinned Knees

caked in dirt
sweat clinging at the nape
and turning my lips salty
I stand
dusk well upon
stealing the last reflected glow
hose in hand
the final touches of our planting
descending in shower
and for a split second it flutters
the long forgotten desire
to skip through falling water
turn the spray to self
cleaned like an errant child or dog
dingy rivers traveling the driveway
but only a moment passing
echoing memories of this yard
when knees were skinned
and cheeks a sun-splashed pink