Sometimes I Think

I’ve started cleaning out a room in the basement. You know the room. It’s the one where empty boxes and old sporting equipment get added to the stack of unpacked moving boxes that you’ve never gotten to even though you’ve lived in your house for years. In my case, I even have some surprise boxes and totes full of childhood memorabilia that my mother keeps sneaking over to “the room”.

While cleaning out one of said boxes from my mother, I discovered a book that I had written in the second grade. I recognized the flower stencils used on the cover artwork; they were part of a pack that was one of my most favorite toys as a little girl. Thankfully, the book is dated, which I’m guessing was one of Ms. Jordan’s requirements. It is complete with a title page, handwritten text on lined paper, two typos, and both original and stencil illustrations by yours truly.

It is a mini-masterpiece that puts a smile on my face every time I read it. It is my imaginative, youthful self immortalized between a single sheet of laminated construction paper. A find like this is why I will continue to sort through every box of rummage that has been stashed away in the basement, because beneath several layers of dust and a few dead bugs, I’ve found joy.

Book Cover

Sometimes, I think.
by Jamie Whitlatch

Sometimes I think of gardens
Sometimes I think of weeds
Sometimes I think of flowers
And how they were all once seeds.

Sometimes I think of T.V.
Sometimes I think of food
Sometimes I think of cleaning
But by then I’m not in the mood.

Sometimes I think of nature
Sometimes I think of bugs
Sometimes I think of crawling
Through the slippery grass with slugs.

Sometimes I think of Bedtime
Sometimes I think of stars
Sometimes I think of dreaming
‘Bout a little man from Marz.

Sometimes I think of thinking.
Can you imagine that?

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