By red_evangeline

childhood is
    a field of blossoming flowers
        an old two-story house covered in splintered wood, and
            the way sunlight filters through a broken window on a
    cloudy afternoon

childhood is
    pastel dresses and hair tied up in ribbons
        walking home with shaking legs and the weight of
    a secret to keep

childhood is
    the way dust gets stuck in your throat
        a pale pink rabbit with one black button eye that sees too much, and
    the innocence of oblivion

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2019 red_evangeline
Published on Saturday, February 2, 2019.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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