A Little Touch of Home

Nothing felt good like
Looking out over the rows of corn
Running through that yard
The sun pouring down
Grandma wanting to feed us
Grandpa working on his tractor
Little Mitchy watching TV
Memories that my mind
Will never shake
Watermelon faces
and a red tricycle
Laughter never failed
In funny papers
Digging potatoes
In fresh Illinois dirt
Upstairs in boxes
We could be anything
Around the Mulberry bush
Rubarb, and orange lilies

I can always be found

Atop the cherry tree

Ruler of the world

With scraped up knees

and dirt on my chin.