The Formula

Greetings,

Red star flags catch wind above golden dragons nestled near crude rough red brick home boxes. Red balloons trailing yellow slips dance, trapped and held by rusting iron wires leading to a basketball hoop waiting for a net to catch a delicious fish

swallowing dust as sad-eyed freshmen drag their suitcases filled with dirty clothes home to mother where, in her undying love, she will scrub them on the 14 gray cement outdoor sink steps inside a cold reality smiling, knowing, feeling her daughter inside her again, inside her womb, her throbbing music of calloused hands scrubbing dreams

dreams of a simple day and time hearing melodious silver tubed chimes and a violin's laughter forming a voice, distant yet clear, forgotten yet remembered as the mother slows down to examine a thread - dancing colors blend her blood, speaking in long babel tongues as a soft morning wind greets star flags, singing new sensations...

Peace.