Ode to Emma and Elegy for Youth
My youth? I hear it mostly
In the bells of her springtime giggles
I smell it mostly
In the sun-soaked sky and
Stepped-on skunkweed
I taste it mostly
In the summertime dust mote
Air
I feel it mostly
In the time-ravaged skin
Of tire-swing trees
I see it mostly
In the luminous aqua
Windows
Of my sister’s first
Creation