lavanda
We grow dreams in our fields
A small spring-suspended
doll flew with us to England from
Croatia with a scented sack of
lavender in her tiny wooden hand
In purple-flowered frock
twinned with perfect straw hat –
traditionally clothed – she is as
pretty as a picture
Half a century has passed since
first I pressed Lime Bank
lavender into the palm of my
seven year old hand
And less than a week since
we adopted the small doll –
but olfactory sense is powerful
and in unexpected commixture
simultaneously
I am today in both Croatia and
my beloved childhood home
