(The sky at 5:30 this morning, or somewhere thereabouts)
Skipping over puddles,
They vibrated with our giggles
Slam dunks in waste baskets
Crunchy sound of wheels on gravel,
On a cold wind blown night
A stare-down with the freelance tomcat
Occupied rainy days
Reading under the blanket
Rising up early to watch Micky Mouse
Those were the hours when I alone roamed the house
The world was mine
She was my wooden horse
Galloping away into the uncertain yonder
With that timeless echo of childish fearlessness
Way back then when the sky spoke to me
In code of endless blues and grays and unicorn gaiety
© Devina S.
Poet's Corner 