Gravel over dust
The heavy scent of rust
The feel of newspaper fabric
Of nonexistent radio static
Of summer sun on sun porches
Of fireflies and flashlight torches
In the places where I spent my day
Coloring with scented markers, lost in play
In the house, made of brick and memory
In the house, with cookies and grilled cheese
Where once laundry hung on the line
Blowing, in sync with the gentle wind chimes
Where she lives and visits with friends
Where that feeling of warmth never ends
May it ever have love and grace
May it ever keep a sense of place
SaltwaterJanuary 