As a Child

Tell me

what did you love

as a child?

I loved

the wisps of mother’s hair

the way her hands

held the iron

as steam hissed up

a cloud.

I loved

the crack

of axe on wood

as my father’s shoulders


dressed in warm flannel

smoke drifting away


from the fire.

I loved

the twinkle of a quiet night

stepping out barefoot

onto the red, splintered deck

craning my neck

just to see

late-summer stars.

I loved

the wriggle of tadpoles

in my hands

at the creek

the taste of grass

earthy in my mouth

as I chewed

atop a tractor

that wouldn’t start.

I loved

the very tops of things:


my ol’ bunkbed

the stairs

and great hills

feeling safest

when I was

right there.

I loved






until we fell to the ground


from the spills

we sought after

dizzied and splayed

on the lawn.

I loved

the old barn

new kittens


each Spring.

I loved

making up games

listening to stories

my brother shared

about a never-ending trail

that must lead


but he never said


Tell me

what did you love

as a child?

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