Somewhere 'In Between'

I remeber
crustless sandwiches
of honey and butter
cut into squares
washed down with
H to O -
"the nectar of the gods"

I was restless -

then -

for my feet to touch the floor

rather than dangling,

two unruly sticks,
over the edge of the stool.

Feet firmly planted
I now seek out high stools
attempting to recapture
the precarious feeling of 'in between';
savoring the sweetness of the imediate
yet eager for the future.