My Earliest Memory

A poem about my earliest memory.

My Earliest Memory

I am sitting
Beneath the transparent dome
Of a stroller.
Raindrops splatter fantastically
Like water balloons
Across the surface of the plastic
And roll down the slope
Like teardrops.

Pink crocheted hat
Sweat between toes
Little mouth forming little “o”.
The smell of laundry detergent
Tantalising.
The soft patter of the rain
The gentle hum of my mother’s voice.

I remember the sensations
The awe
The colours
This is what I feel when it rains.