Quite vividly, I remember the time my mom taught me to braid.
We were outside; it was summertime. Dad was cooking hotdogs and hamburgers on the barbecue. The grandparents were over. Everything felt wonderful.
Mom and I were sitting on the green grass in the shade. She braided my hair, and I wanted to learn.
She plucked six long dandelions. Giving me three of them, she showed me how to braid.
I'll always remember dandelions.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 3
Poetrythird poem collection. they aren't in any particular order or anything like that, and after 100, there will always be a new one. if you've been here a while, I'm sure you know the drill. now, about the cover. it was a random Thursday, and an old fri...
