By Deidre M. Thigpen © 1989
Issue: January, 1989
The smell of a springhouse on a hot summer day,
The feel of a hen's nest's hay,
Stained fingers from picking berries,
Full stomachs from wild cherries,
Swimming in the creek,
Mice in the barn so meek,
The smell of rain in the white pine,
Looking at the stars for weather signs,
The feel of a soft down pillow,
And picnics under the weeping willow,
Hot summer Sundays sitting in the swing,
These memories are a precious thing.