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.