i watched the clouds danced, from atop a rusted roof
as children scream wildly with glee not too far below
remembering my childhood with heartily smile
when forgotten faces of friends used to run amok on empty streets
battered and beaten empty cans of sardines would fly
as slippers trash it around as an afternoon’s game
drawing lines over street lines using charcoals
fun used to be unisex, there were no bounds
on evenings when lights went out
we wondered why it was called brownout
when everything was too dark to see
not even your hands close to your face
beneath a full moon, you’d hear children scream
no cars rushed by, no accidents, not even fire
we’d scurry, bumping each other, a swollen forehead
tears would be held, hiding was of great import
by summer’s end rain would fall unforgiving
mud and white uniforms would mix
water holds no barren ground for excitement
sickness was unheard of, or we just didn’t care
as my dreams brought me to the present
children’s scream faded like the sun
slowly drowning by the horizon
an echo, silently going
