I am walking home
under a clean spring sky
from a creek i have forgotten
a mere trickle except in April
i have a jar of frog eggs
and the memory of tadpoles dancing

the sun is out
i will eat a sugar sandwich
i will watch puddles turn to dry dirt
on the road

i will think for the first time
this is a dream

and if the dreamer wakes?

Oh, my heart’s child, husband, mother
lost one,
when did this happen to you? 

Kelley White

If you've any comments on this poem, Kelley White would be pleased to hear from you.