The pollywogs swam
in the trickle of a stream,
pale gully flanked by fallen tree
on which to prance and dream.
Thin, glossy sprouts
of the "peppermint" tree
there to peel and taste --
nature's gift, for free.
My garden I raked
beside the great, supine timber,
our "table" and "chair"
for all chats before dinner.
The soil, rich and dark,
chips of china poking through,
relics of people
we never knew.
I talked to my cat
and I drank in the sun,
there where child and Heaven
felt like one.
(Written by me on April 12, 2019. All rights reserved.)
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