Childhood smoothness

I found my mama’s scarf

It was my favorite one she wore,

It was bright cherry red and like silk

Her long black curls were spilling over and under it.

I found it and picked it up

And brought it to my nose

It smelled really nice, a bit like the smooth, sweet caramel I got for my birthday,

Like her.

I remember helping with her hair

To not let it get stuck under the scarf

And pulling it out gently as she would do for me,

My hair was always too long, she would say

Her eyes full of layers of fun and tumbling in the itchy, soft grass.

I know that she’s here with me somehow,

Someway

As I saw our last place we went to,

The old ice-cream truck that had chocolate cones,

Now playing absolutely no music

And storing the friends I used to play with.

The scarf I hold in my hands keeps me smooth

So very soft and smooth

As the broken down patches of my

Front yard that has our first garden,

The one sítti w sīdi made with me

The soil so soft and smooth once too

Now thrown around like grenades.