Blue Helium Sky

Silver Point of a Child

Using a pencil
filled with silver,
she drew the skeleton
of a memory.
Lines flowed like conversations
from a vanished morning
dreaming of re-creation.
She stood in her third year,
holding a stick of oak
in the flickering glow
from a pale wafer
of sun chasing shadow.

The day came alive
when she touched
the walking stick to that ground
in Middle Tennessee
in April nineteen twenty-one.

She saw the magic
of the early hour
coloring the sky blue
and the maples green.
She walked in black button-up shoes
in  her  Grandmother’s  backyard
on South Maney’s  Avenue.
All the vacant pockets
of nine a.m.  air
trilling with robin songs
came back as she drew
what she thought had been gone.

The day came alive
when she touched
the walking stick to that ground
in Middle Tennessee
in April nineteen twenty-one.

2006/2013


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