She wears a cloud a beret at overflowits nod to a morning brim until evening turns to songwithin the netted plenty draws finger and thumb to choosea cow’s lick cusping you in the morningwheaten harvest falling

Keepsake peace, flour and water by the front hall door it satyears after they had all grownthe cardboard box gone floppywhere the creaky sun spied throughthe plaster of paris flakythe kindergarten crinkled cellophaneover the heavy acrylics of handstoddler signaturesslow printed joythe stretching crayon wiggly namesdays waiting to expandand if we had collected them allthe host … Continue reading Keepsake peace, flour and water