A place where violets bloom in blown glass
gracing a vase of Lilies, purple
etched in marbled white on a laced stand—
like grandmother’s house smelling of blueberry pancakes.

My breath a whisper in the wind,
a wisp of fog like a cat’s paw
I could make her window violets shiver.

Childhood lullabies lilting from unschooled lips,
branches kept time drumming the tin roof
of a garden shed sinking beneath an old oak,
its giant limb outstretched. A rope
waiting for the running jump,
my nine-year-old self sailed
into an azure summer.

My sister shared a cracked earthen jar
of Koolaid, her lips purpled
feasting on fresh-picked berries.

Tongue a wriggling blue worm
touching her wrinkled nose, her Elfin
seven-year-old body
scampered up a chinaberry tree,
lobbing at me little green bombs
I returned with glee.

In a darkening yard–
the flash of Fireflies–
dancing stars I could catch
in a blue bowl. Still
these moments I will
savor for eternity.

Katherine Nelson-Born’s chapbook, When Mockingbirds Sing, was published by Finishing Line Press. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals, including Alyss, Birmingham Poetry Review, Emerald Coast Review, Excelsior ReView, GSU Review, Longleaf Pine, Maple Leaf Rag and Penumbra. Currently Katherine serves as the Northwest Florida Poet Laureate. She lives and writes in Pensacola, Florida. Check out Katherine and follow her on Facebook!