ladybugs and daffodils
that’s what i remember
daffodils, butterfly bushes, roses, bluebells, trumpets, daisies, wildflowers
my backyard was a garden, growing and moving and shaping my mind with it
the words childhood home never fit right in my mouth anymore
i can never picture my bedroom
the disjointed color scheme painting ugly frames of reference in my mind
but i will always remember my backyard
i had a pear tree
and an apple tree
the apple tree was always too bitter
the pears never tasted right
one time i bit a worm right in half, the juice and blood dribbling down my chin
one time i fed a deer a pear right out of my hand, its eyes almost thanking me with its head bowed down
giving and taking from the world as i pleased, i felt complete
circular, even
i took rolly pollies and beetles, hiding them in different places than i picked them up
i hoped they would find their way back home
i gave avocado and lemon and strawberry seeds, planting them in the hopes of creating my own fruitful garden
over time, when nothing bloomed, and nothing sprouted, i stopped
the last thing i planted there was my own two feet,
rooted in the ground,
barefoot and happy,
i collapsed,
rolling in dirt and bugs and seeds
i felt circular then
i always wonder if i’ll feel whole if i just go back
just to walk in the grass, barefoot, once more.
