Aug 2016
6pm on a summer night.
I hear mom through the kitchen window
Hollering us home from the field.
We race one last time to the house.
Hungry for adventure.
Hungry for competition.
Hungry for dinner.
Bursting through the back door,
Dad yells up the stairs.
We won't forget to wash up.
Taking turns at the sink.
Helping the little onto the stool.
Blowing bubbles with the handsoap.
Close my eyes and inhale...
Warm Ginger and Honey.
I open my eyes to see myself.
My reflection is almost 20.
Washing up with the same soap,
But this time I bought it myself.
Nostalgia.
-[h.r.]
I hear mom through the kitchen window
Hollering us home from the field.
We race one last time to the house.
Hungry for adventure.
Hungry for competition.
Hungry for dinner.
Bursting through the back door,
Dad yells up the stairs.
We won't forget to wash up.
Taking turns at the sink.
Helping the little onto the stool.
Blowing bubbles with the handsoap.
Close my eyes and inhale...
Warm Ginger and Honey.
I open my eyes to see myself.
My reflection is almost 20.
Washing up with the same soap,
But this time I bought it myself.
Nostalgia.
-[h.r.]
It's my first week in ny own place. I had to buy handsoap and I stumbled across the same kind my mother used to buy when I was little. Everytime I smell it, I'm brought back to the days before my shine dulled and I had to find it again on my own.
