She passed our house on Jackson Street
the summer I was eight.
Shiney gold rings peeked from beneath
turned up ear flaps of her fleece lined
leather cap. Her boots were the color
of Mr. Carter's giant gold fish.
Sliding from behind the sanctuary of our
wandering oak, I timidly offered a tentative
half wave.
She turned to me...
Her curious yet challenging smile
sang to me of boundless possibilities
and treasure-filled pathways as
large brown eyes peered at me from
behind green rubber swim goggles.
I could hear the short skipping sounds on the
asphalt as her march-like strides were
interjected with quick bird like hops as if
to hasten her pace.
Spellbound I watched as she passed...yards of
a yellow festooned scarf billowing behind,
wafted sweet scents of Jasmine in her wake...
a fragrance so pure and free that would
forever linger in my senses as would the sweet
perfume of my mother's good-night kisses.
With a last backward glance, she crested the
hill and dissapeared...swallowed into the
landscape of my mind's imagination.
She made my heart shine..
shine with boundless possibilities...
that dew-kissed morning on Jackson Street...
I was but a boy of eight.
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