Buttercups

My first memory of school was
Big sister walking me there
no care
in the world and there was
just this whole field of beautiful buttercups
I
Plucked them
one by one
into my pocket they went  and
so once I sat down
in my desk
in that little awful oppressive space
I could find freedom
by taking those little flowers
Out of my little pocket
and I’d press them to my nose and inhale deeply
And feel
Feel freedom and feel the fields they came from
And for a moment
I would escape
my little prairie prison.