I still carry the Sunlight of childhood
stashed in a jar on a shelf in the kitchen
where my mother teases her sons
and bakes apple pie in the oven
while washing laundry in a twin tub
she has to hold down as it tries to take off.
And I can hear her voice following me
with warnings and threats of admonition
as I go out into the big playground of the World
with all the free Sunlight a child can handle.