Southern Autumn

sunlight achingly golden

muted sounds ripple past

trees put forth green

spurred on by chilled mornings

memories flit by

called up by afternoons

when the

sun’s rays beat hot

battling against chilly wind

summer is gone like a dream

Name is a box--

A name is a box

A frame for the inner soul.

All the things in the box

are the inside, the me.

I am changing the box,

renewing the frame

Sorting out the contents

re-painting the picture.

Some things I want to keep

I move them into my new box

this old box is shabby

I'll tape it and put it in storage

There are the same things inside the box

I've only changed the outer shell.

Spring, 2003

Rose perfume

The scent of a rose

like apples

and a far, sweet essence

a picture materializes

From fairy tale and legend

of a jeweled tree

living, blossoming stones

and hanging,

like great globes of honey

golden apples

that send forth soft perfume.

3/29/00

Riding the bus on Saturday afternoon

          Riding the Bus on Saturday Afternoon

         

                                                This an adventure,

                                                August adventure.

                                                Out on my own,

                                                September adventure.

                                                Dreamed of, now coming

                                                this is delicious

                                                wobble-leg sweet

                                                head-pounding

                                                heart-dancing

                                                finger-stiffening

                                                sour taste in my mouth.

                                                I am released

                                                like a single clear note

                                                set loose to shimmer

                                                for this time and remembering

                                                I shall be loosed

                                                mind boggling

                                                tongue drying

                                                shy voice

                                                free.

Cailin Sanders

(I was 15 and I wasn't allowed to ride the city bus downtown by myself, which limited me to our local one-room library and the occasional trips to a branch library. I really, really, really wanted to visit the Central library in Austin. I'd been there a couple times, but I wanted to go whenever I wanted to! The books called me! So, sneakily, (and I was not normally a sneaky teen) I told my dad where I was going (while he wasn't listening) and told my mom I was just taking the bus to the church where I babysat on Saturday. Which I did! But then instead of coming home I continued on the bus downtown and went to the library. Of course, I got in trouble later (as I had planned, my dad totally forgot I'd said anything to him, so nobody knew where I was for about four hours), but I was firm in my justification that I had told someone where I was going and after that I assumed I had permission to go wherever I wanted on the bus, although I told my mom when to expect me home afterwards in the future (-:) It was an utterly liberating feeling to be on my own, going where I wanted to. It was a gorgeous day, I got a ton of wonderful books, and it was one of the perfect moments of my life. 13 years later, I'm still single, I still go on expeditions by myself, and I still love it!