Nipomo: for Donna-Lee

I still often sigh
as I think of our long gone, younger days--
where we'd play amongst the eucalyptus leaves
two sisters, untouched and unafraid.

We would jump off the moon--
pink umbrellas in hand
and back on the ground
safely we land.

Buried shoes
and porcelain dolls,
rainforest whispers and
high heels, much too tall.

This season is gone
and summer has lost its charm.
If I could turn back the clocks
I'd go back to the start-
a time where my sister
held my hand and
my heart.
Oh, sweet Nipomo.