Remember

28 Aug

I remember those days
Of catching grasshoppers
And picking clovers
And tossing the ball
Till the sun hides at the horizon

And the neighborhood streets
Glow in dusk dark blue
And our skin glistens
With sweat, dirt, grass,
And scraped shins of the day
As the fireflies parade their
Stuttering light-show
Strobing around the backyard
Like tiny comets while
The call of the cicadas
Serenades us.

Your hand reaches for mine.
There’s a warm breeze.

You show me the dry shedded skin
Of the cicada nymph
That you found still attached to the
Side of the neighbor’s house.

I didn’t think I remembered.
But I do.

You’re still with me.

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