My little brother and I
set our rusty tin sand pails
upright to catch raindrops.
Clad in skimpy bathing suits
we stirred garden earth
into the blessed drops
making glorious mud.
With tiny hands we patted
and shaped our creations,
fashioning elegant dinners
we served each other
on great, green grape leaves
from the backyard arbor.
Muddy pies would disappear.
Remembering childhood
miracles would not.
Copyright © 2011. Merle Hazard. All rights reserved.