By Cheryl Weibye Wilke
I craved the taste of orange-
flavored baby aspirin. In fact,
my mother caught me
standing on top of the toilet
to open the mirrored door
of her white tin medicine
cabinet and reach for the small
glass bottle. It was the taste of Florida
citrus and sunshine that hooked
me. The V-shape of bathing
beauties flying on water
skis in Cypress Gardens set against
splashes of crimson and pink
Southern Belle flowers. A place
I once visited in utero.
Copyright 2015 Wilke