just yesterday you were little

i lost faith in fairy tales

and placed it in family and predictable rituals

of silver-tongued finesse to sweet-secret that rum swizzle punch recipe outta uncle larry via encoded terminology within range of underage ears.

in every direction farine pie, cassava pie, and pyrex dishes of homemade spiced stuffing amidst

battle of the “baked to perfection macaroni and cheeses.”

the moist and tenders covering a sea of tables and kitchen countertops.

better always for there to be too much food,

too much family with friends.

loud classic soul tunes/r&b mix.

louder conversations,

as children slip in between hands determined to grab and hug with too many kisses for reluctant cheeks and

“my goodness mama, what you been feeding him, growena???—he's got so tall!”

darkness patches past back porch steps where grownups kept smokes and southern comfort on ice, mindful you didn't linger during conversation. get too curious.

we knew better

but tried it anyhow.

“run along now...grown folk business.”

always endless cousins and games to play in forever times. closest to freedom we got gone crazy, eating second, third, and fourth helpings like bottomless pits.

the whole world’s home with everyone boozy and packed bodies in surround sound and the cat found some sense and in hiding for the night—that night—no next day work or school, and no mama/daddy telling you can’t have this or that. friends and family entitled to spoil you once a year and we lapped it up, rolled around in it like it’d never end, couch-dozing on annual movie specials, candy-high drunk on grass-rootsy socializing with too much pound cake and ice cream only to be 'sleep-drag-walked' to the car, since nobody carrying you an account of “how tall you got!” and the night blinks multicolored warmth all over, looking every bit like love which hollers out

“pops, let that child stay the night and we’ll drop her off in late morning at yours.”

and already you know, cousins’ afterparty gon’ defy bodily requirements and be up all night long.

cuz before we knew what they were…

they'd be a season of yesterdays.

I am very appreciative that you read this poem! I put a great deal of effort and time into it, so that means so much to me. You are more than welcome to read more of my work below.