24. lawn fresh
when i was little, growing up
in pittsburgh, riding my bike
around the block
wind in my hair
dreaming of freedom
and all the characters
who loved me from books
the poems waited for me with
christopher robin and pooh
in illustrated volumes
i examined in bed, early
summer mornings when
green apple sun snuck
under flapping window shades
cool and lawn fresh
the big attic fan’s
insucking breeze
promising to sweep
the past clean
