2001-04-30 - 7:03 p.m.
disjointed moments of sweetness
flood to me on afternoons like this,
when my mind is at its most peaceful(or disturbed)
rapid images blink on the front step of the door to my mind,
recalling my thoughts to a time when we worked in the fields
sweating out the jucie of our ancestors, who worked and fell in these very footsteps
spilling out their souls in puddles of hope for us
one particular scent is sewn to my subconcious
from that one day we wept under the sunflowers
and you and i went back to your room
and you baked your mama's cornbread
