We were given many prompts with which to begin a poem but I found myself with the one for happy memories. How does one choose, one might ask, but water was also suggested as a stimulant, and so I returned to our two years living on the Mississippi River. I believe I have mentioned before how there was an island there in the river where we lived, which allowed the water to freeze, so we could ice skate over in the winter.
I remember standing on that island looking up at the branches of the trees.
I think that island may be my axis mundi, my navel of the world.
Where is yours?
What anchors you here, roots you, as you reach for sky?