Tag Archives: Kiley Kerns

Kiley Kerns

Spring Onions

When I was young I

would pick these small

white bulbs, with long

green hair, from the

soil of my grandpa’s yard.

When I was young I

would pick these ripe

red apples, from the

crooked limbs of the

dying crab apple tree.

When I was young I

would walk along the

slippery sides of this

great big pond and

hunt for frogs and fish.

When I was young I

would pick the emerald

beetles off the weeping

willow and stuff them in

pockets for my mother.

When I was young I

felt the Earth below my

feet and its seed between

my soft careful fingers that

grabbed for more and more.

When I was young the

world was full of blue and

it was full of yellow.

It was full of songbirds

and sweet purple meadows.

When I was young the

spring onions were my

gift from God and the

sun a sitter to watch me play.

 


Kiley Kerns  is a junior at SUNY Oswego, double majoring in psychology and creative writing with a minor in expressive art therapy. She intends to attend graduate school for clinical psychology while getting her writing published on the side. She spends her free time romanticizing everything and making Pinterest boards. If Kiley could get brunch with any author dead or alive—it’d be Anne Sexton.

Comments Off on Kiley Kerns

Filed under Poetry