i grew up in a garden. sweet sticky
honey nectar spun by honey bees
buzzing deep in the heart of our forest of baby trees and make belief
i grew up watching the fluff fall from our cottonwood tree each spring
magic tickled my neck and i looked up to the sky and smiled
it was worthwhile living across from a park
that melted-tan plastic felt like home and smelled of sweat
cigarette burns and teenage love initials
i grew up a witness of the setting sun. i saw the fire
in the sky each summer night
it caught my dreams in a whirlwind of pastel colors and burnt passion a sensitive person
of life was born and that reminds me
about the country of corn and their carnival
when i'd stay in my grandparents' blue castle and walk into the vibrant grounds seeing the sights and smelling the sounds
i'd play some bingo and never win
drink chocolate milk and smile and grin
