What We Came From

We are driving the old roads
Where we used to live at the beach,
my son eating his special taco from the
favorite Stand, at stop lights while driving.

My kid, who hung out in summers with me
in ancient time now
by the river at his Uncle's house.
Three years old, and I can still see him
playing in the sticks and mud at
creekside.
I have strawberries in the back seat.
He reaches back to eat one
periodically as we travel the coast highway we know so well.

I ask if he wants me
to wash one, the berries came straight from a field.
He says , "Dirt is good for you."
and then, all I see is his little face
5 months old
covered in dirt when he crawled off
the blanket next to our cabin
where he was born one night
in the woods.