Saffron light above the sink
tints the taste of butter cream
from the spoon with reverie
thoughts fall away
like loose change to the floor
where echoes of my mother rest
if the humidity’s right
I can feel the flannel cats and dogs
still press against my skin
where July bug bites were
once scratched by tiny scallop nails
construction paper dreams rest
under the veils that once
brought 8-legged nightmares
when laws were based in light
they say the seasons change
and time is a line
I say the tender leaves always return home