Remember

Remember the summer afternoons that stretched thin across soggy fields?

Where life ran barefoot for miles

after kites

and time lazed under the sun

ignoring Mother's calls.

Remember the thrill of pocketing fruits

from the neighbour's backyard?

That was our grand larceny.

Six friends in tank tops and pigtails,

devouring happiness

atop a crooked guava tree.

The Rodricks have chopped down that tree now

and the promises we made on its tippy top

to stay young forever

died at the fourth friend's grave.

Remember when sleep came easy,

and nightmares

didn't beg for therapy?

When mornings didn't sucker punch

and life ran barefoot for miles

without getting tired.

Somewhere between playing in the rain

and the smell of wet earth becoming a trend,

life grew old.

We went from playing with fireworks

to gathering ashes on our nightstands

on lonely nights.

Remember when we'd run away from home but home always stayed close? Remember when we chose to leave it anyway? Where is happiness now?