I guess it was you and me.
It could have been someone else and you, but now that I am remembering,
It must of been us.
Or someone else somewhere else.

The Memory is a greedy place.

You rake up all the leaves from your trees into one giant pile and
then, well...
Then you jump in them.

That soft landing Is It.

It's a pool of life fallen.

The dust gets in your eyes and you cry.
People walk by and see your face and smile because... really

It's just a kid and his life:

Crying and Laughing, Singing and Wheezing.

Alone, but with friends coming, running down the block.
Shoelaces lashing ankles, hands grabbing branches and letting the
green confetti fly behind their speed.

And there's always that girl at the front who stops amidst the pack to
tie her shoelaces. It's almost a 52 limb pile up but the co-ordination
is amazing. Bouncing off concrete banks and sliding down honda hoods
they slip by the cautious girl with her hair almost tied up in
her laces

When they arrive there is no echo in their hollars, the skinny
streets hold too much foliage.

But they cry and dive into the leaves.

You're taken under. But without worry you surface and all you see is teeth.
Full grinned smiles, tooth missing smiles, ghosts.
That laughter,
That unchecked chuckling of the world's best and worst jokes,
The static of happiness.
But then you slip away,
your street lights have come on and it's your time to go home.

cg