fluffed and outraged.
Suddenly the smell of summer took me
back to when we were the wind running on bare feet
across the yard
to the fenceline
dragging our ankles through purple bloom-laden crownvetch
stirred up honeybees took flight
to the edge of Eades' farm
fingers sticky with milkweed pod popping for the silk inside.
There were so many more butterflies then.
We were tiger swallowtails.
And we were barn owls we were small mice nibbling
last year's fallen field corn.
We were dragonflies with eyes like jewels.
We were lightning bugs glowing off to each other
through the night.
We were cows wading up to our bellies
in thick brown water.
We were blue gill swimming round our legs.
We were savages of the moment
unschooled and fearless.
We were downy black-capped chickadees
circling away up into open sky.
(c)Amanda Hart Cravotta 2009
published in Skipping Stones Vol VI
Mindworm Press, Chesapeake, VA
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