A Wilkerson's Child h An early morning, sun shining bright Through the leaves of trees both dark and light The grass still wet with morning dew And the feeling of a day beginning anew In the air a soft wind blows At the same time a neighbor mows The cool flow of the backyard creek Downstairs, a dozen doughnuts smell sweet A yawn comes before descending the stairs I join my family sitting in their chairs To the leave the table I am the last But still I enjoyed these breakfasts past After breakfast the yard sales begin Nobody knows when they will end People are getting out and about To see what their neighbors are throwing out I walk around to all the other sales To see the sights and smell the smells The leaves have changed the surrounding familiar scene With yellow, orange, red, and hints of green That day forever I will always rememeber The second year in our first house on Septemeber Now the sales are all gone We have grown and moved on No more breakfasts at the table We portray Cain and Abel We feel such gloom We stay in our rooms Though good times may never last Still I enjoyed those breakfasts past By a Wilkerson’s Child 1996