Jun. 1st. 2024

Between a destination, maybe I will stop and look

and notice, on the path

that there are children lined up one by one

in a long row against the side of the museum, garnishing the serious walls with the untrained eccentricities of

youthful laughter.

the suns vibrancy screams at them the middays reckoning- yet they’re too young to recoil at the call, and soak up the days potential, unconscious it’s even there.

They have gathered to eat their silicone-packed sandwiches crinkling and clawing at the seams. Relishing in the subtle spoils of childhood.

I miss when I would get a packed lunch.

their grandfather, he must be- beside them.

they are built by the same smile.

wise eyes are weaker only to the tastes of a moment.

His hands rest, he has no need to distract

From a life which he wishes to fully embrace

and I walk behind a couple

sharing a bag of groceries

each hand holds one handle

and they stride along the streets

the vendor at the hot dog stand watches people as they go by while

I watch them. and I remember how summer smells like a hot dog stand

and I remember how I like catching outfits and their occupants- the business casual

the post gym next to a well dressed businessman with all the places they need to be

and the sky is a little more blue today

and the sun feels like a gentle pat on my head

and even though I feel I should be worrying

and that something bad is at the end of the road

everything is okay

right now