daffodils float on the aching windowsill,
heavy footprints and soft skin
sink into floorboards and rickety stairs,
the oak and cedar sigh in the sun.
green eyes blend between the leaves. whispers
linger in the trees and hide behind
bitten branches. tiny toes slide through mud
and laughter hangs in the air for hours.
red-checked button ups sway on wires in the breeze,
surrounded by faded jeans and holey tshirts.
the missouri flows in the background
and summers submerge in the currents, drifting.
feathered wings soar in hot skies, chirping, landing
softly in the tangles of apple trees and
aching backyard patios. empty lawn
chairs groan with age – eight legs, unmoving.