Tuesday, June 10, 2008

the other side of the gate

there was air that smelled of rhododendron
and dirt
once upon a time
the other side of the gate
was just different

where water flowed
singing a melody as it moved
and knowing it was pretty
so sweet to drink
filling up those empty milk jugs

one cousin ran to catch his mother
wasn't her
looked like her from behind
we giggled and ran, he's
now gone, and his brother immured

another cousin kissed me
when noone was looking
he changes lives now
spirit pouring from his face
like his grandfather

what lessons
were mine to take with me
from those rooms, that high air
and all the stories & laughter
shaping who I am today

but that air
decades later, each time I return
smells different
on the other side of the gate