1985

my mother
is a bronzed sun goddess
amidst rows of beans and corn.

the sky
is absolute blue.

my father
is somewhere
doing something
and emerges
once in a while with
a wheelbarrow
filled with stuff,
dirt covered pants hanging off his
bum.

i am staring into the sun
because someone told me i would go blind if i did
and i want to prove them wrong.
i am six.
white blonde
peasant blouse
cutoff jeans.

it smells like july
because it is.

soon
we begin digging a hole to china
yelling down it
digging digging digging
hoping they will hear us soon,
me and my counterpart.

then
i am holding a branch as high as i can
in the sky
trying to catch
a bird.

i still am