Untitled Musing II
I dream of home back there. Standing in front of laminated counter, light streaming in through skylights that leak in the spring. Memories of buckets holding rainwater indoors, and killing earwigs in summer. Sleeping in attic bedroom, ghetto sounds as my lullaby. Summer picnics on the roof, cherry tomatoes too large to chew and sticky backyard stair to happily leap over as I run free and fast.