If I had a kite, a paper bird, I would be flying it now the way we flew them at Northside overlooking basketball courts and swings. It's gorgeous outside.
At home too, I remember a rope net of sorts, plastic yellow, strung between the apple trees.
When Cole wasn't using it, I would drag out the old mauve blanket, climb up to swing in the spring breezes with a book. The best times had a slight chill ,afternoon light ripening, and an atmosphere filled with apple blossoms.
Pale pink petals would float down to spotty grass. I was curled up in that cocoon strung between warped trunks, yet still elsewhere, tucked in fantasy.
1 comment:
I really like reading your posts about the "good ol' times," because they remind me of my own childhood and adolescence. I really like the emotions these images evoke both in you as a writer and me as the reader. For serious.
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