A Childhood Memory A Children's Journey story Look at the sausage rope skies! When the air turns sour I look for cheese hanging over the cottages waiting in line. It's always laundry day there. The chickens know it and rejoice! Until the clatter of steel bins wakes mother. These ropes turn for skipping now sending out little bubble cars. Wouldn't it be glorious to jump on the roof? Flailing legs over the red tiles with propeller blade arms winding Bzzzrrpp Bzzzrrpp Bzzzrrpp Imagine how cross the hens would be if we landed on every brown egg. The old woman sang with the choir once. I heard her legs wobbled like thunder on a cold day until spring afternoon arrived on the porch. The sausage ropes have gone now, bled into the silky blues of the afternoon. Just as we reach the top of the hill the sky is no longer our focus as eyes linger on the outstretched valley, deep bold green .. Oxygen for the heart's river! Breathe it in harsh until the vision is set ... This is the...
Journal of an empath