Childhood Poem

When I was young, the moon was our flashlight
and the stars, our imagination.
When night came, lightning bugs appeared,
an intangible wonder that gave me a path.

When I was young, we rode all day,
endless road to ride, countless knees to scab.
We ran as if nothing could stop us.
Nothing but the sound of my mother's voice.
two blocks away.

When I was young, we played Clue,
in the shade of the forgiving tent.
And we swam, in the comfort of our relief.

When I was young, we received quarters,
an action making us unbelievably rich,
and the thought that we could buy the world.

The memory fresh, as the clothes.
hanging on the line.

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