mulberrymemory

Mulberry Memory

Back before they took down the pasture

and put up the mobile homes

you could march straight up the mulch path through the tall grass

or cut grass

and climb the low branches of the mulberry tree

and stain your lips and fingers

with purple bursting

summer snacks by the fistful

the cicadas swelling sinusoidal secret society hymns

until the sun got low and gold

and the Australian dad came whistling Waltzing Mathilda

swinging tin dinner cylinders over the hill

and the next-door-neighbor kids

tumbled at his ankles

all the way down

to apartment number eight.

©2008 Hillary Swanson. All rights reserved.