I Remember

I remember being showered in the wilderness by

hot embers from a blazing fire sent into the air

by an exploding can of cream-style corn.

I remember the forest with trees so thick and

tangled the ground was painted with one big,

cold shadow.

I remember playing with the skin that hung from

my grandma's arm and being told not to do it again.

I remember being pulled in a little red wagon,

watching the leaves flutter on the trees.

I remember my sister stealing a banana from

home and running away on her blue bike, up the

road.