Hot, the summer sun pours onto my neck and head.
Moisture rains from the hose I hold.
The smell of my tomatoes growing sends me
to the early memory of my parents’ first backyard,
a short brick fence and a planter box, sturdy, and
full of dirt and tomatoes.
I am small, dark-haired, and smiling.
Mom holds my fingertips and dad grins at my progress
as I walk and touch the rough cement blocks.
The smell of tomatoes fills the air.
Magpie Tales #22 - Photo credit Willow @ http://magpietales.blogspot.com/