the hover and swoop

of dragonflies

sweet effusion of Lavender

I hear and smell

lying on my mother’s bed

it is summer and a breeze

comes through the window

that opens to the Colorado plain

sheer white curtains

flow over me

barely touching me

as if a hint or whisper

requiring stillness

awaiting the next breath

nothing could be as peaceful

as curtains lifting and waving

in and out of half sleep

empty mind I rest

this is what I remember

of my childhood

it will be my last memory

a gift that holds me

even now

sometimes it is the only thing

that reminds me

of who I really am

an innocent girl

housed momentarily

in this wayward stolid form

sometimes it is

the only thing left

after a lifetime of seeking

what is good