A seldom-worn Easter dress
showing knobby knees, white
cotton gloves stained by last year’s
grassy green, patented Mary
Janes puddled with holey
socks in loose elastic, the stiff
straw boater’s angry band that
choked my trembling chin,
unfamiliar children who pushed
me from their hard-earned
Sunday school wins, while I
hunted for a soft place to belong,
out the door inside sweet meadows
of spring’s grace and nature’s fellows.
I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. Won’t you join me in poetry?