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

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