Jenna Nienhuis

I wish I could bottle up the scent of grapefruit blossoms
to remind you of the Seed School days.
“Good morning!” you were greeted with a warm smile
No shoes…no worries.
The squeaks and squeals of free-range children and chickens
melding into Elizabeth Mitchell melodies.
Bubble magic was only the beginning
of where you might go that day.
Birds, nests and eggs — colored, crafted and collected.
Sticks, strings, and watercolor dreams.
You formed friendships with ease over mud-kitchen tea —
Sang songs for your birthday with a crown for the queen.
Childhood is made for sugar snap peas off the vine and
Toby the turtle the size of your palm.
Saying “see you later” with kisses on every in-breath of the swing.
I wish I could bottle up the scent of grapefruit blossoms
to remind you of what it means to be both
held and free.