How slowly the world moved
as a child in the classroom
moments before the bell rang
freeing you for a season
Luxuriating in the days
of your youth
Freedom of the purest kind
Hiding and seeking
Chasing each other
around the neighborhood
Cars in the street driving by
never bothering to slow
Be careful your mother said
One afternoon
a smear of crimson
on the asphalt
Summer turned to Fall
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