When I was young

Firefly nightlights
living in mason jars,
Holding-hand races
so we both can win,
Grass stained tummies
'cause we were looking for luck
in a patch of clover.

Couch cushion forts
with Aunt Helen's afghan ceilings,
A valiant horse cleverly
disguised as a Laborador Retriever,
Peanut butter crackers
in milk with Daddy
past bedtime.

Photos by the burning
bushes in autumn,
The smell of snow in winter,
Rhododendron blossoms
when spring finally arrives
much too slowly,
And sunburned noses in summer.

Planning adventures
for tomorrow while
under the covers
with a mittened cat,
Playing school with
a baby brother
and a carnival bear.

Meeting the spotted
puppy-best-friend
for the very first time.
He had one brown eye
and the other blue,
and somehow survived
getting hit by several cars.

When busy days
involved obstacles
to the rock by the creek
where I devoured silly
adolescent novels,
sliding around in dirt
where a pool would one day be.

When problems consisted
of mosquito bites
and the too-fast setting
of the sun in fall,
and the terror of not
jumping off of the sled
soon enough.

When money was something
our parents had to
only buy groceries.
It wasn't anything
we'd ever need to worry
ourselves over at all.
With happiness, no one needs.

When love was as simple
as time: minutes, hours.
When love didn't mean
anything more than
simply being there,
laughing friends
till mom calls us in.