Somewhere
Back there
Way back
In the corners of my mind
Is the memory of the perfect day
I was probably about
Nine years old
A lazy July day
I awoke early
Put on my best hiking shorts
The ones with all the zipper pockets
an old pair of chuck taylors
And tranced out
Into the yard soaked with
Early morning dew
The hot July sun was burning the dew off so fast
That it was rising in
Clouds of steam
Like grandmas boiling chicken pots
After a feast of sugar drenched cereal
I journeyed up the road to
Ronny and Billy's
We disappeared in the woods for the rest of this
Magical day like boys used to do
Catching crawdads
Like we got paid for it
And tracing the creek farther than
Lewis and Clark
Eventually we tired of chasing creeks
The day grew long
And the sun wearied of burning so hot
We marched home like some kind of
Soldiers after armistice
Filed into kitchen tables for
Macaroni and cheese and fresh watermelon
Before I collapsed
I went out one more time and
Caught fireflies until my eyes started crossing
Because somehow I knew
That days like this one don't come around very often
In a lifetime
The crickets sang me to sleep that night and
The ole moon rose on
The perfect day
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