Author: Siena Rose

I’ll go to visit you 
In the green fields of my youth 
Your skin as soft as flowers 
That dot the hillside 

My mother she will hold 
Your hand until she knows 
That you will safely make it
Through her memories 

I remember summer treats
Blueberries between my teeth 
Raw cane sugar in a little bowl
Whole-oat oatmeal by the window 

I can’t recall the sound 
Of your voice while we sat around 
The dining room table full 
Of food we had to share

I loved that magnet on your fridge 
Of Jesus on a tie die binge 
I’d get him down to his underwear
Then dress him up again