I dwell on the past
a lot
on the whitewashed walls of
borrowed homes
my rootless childhood with transient friends
and the chance to experience life’s spectrum
between the temporary pit stops called
home
I remember the taste of
summer huckleberries and
the smell of rotted autumn leaves and
the gurgling little creek and
the feel of sand between my toes
and I wonder what I’d be if
none of it ever happened
life a giant question
what if?
the past [poem]
Larissa Lee 