Afternoon Picnic

Laying on the grass
With arms stretched out
Drunk on pb&js and fruit punch
My skin absorbs the summer sun
As I watch the latest cloud sponsored soap opera
I wish I could do cartwheels
Tumble forever down this hill
With grass tickling fingers
And the wind knotting my hair
Ambition is short
This afternoon
Settling on a picnic with long absent youth
Trading memories like baseball cards
Mine are all dog-eared and torn
While my youth has all new
Slick to the fingers, smelling like chalky, stale gum
With shiny stickers, and I want to steal them
Slip them in my back pocket
When my youth isn’t looking
The past has a way of watching for thieves
So all I can do is hand them back
While I wad up my stash and shove them in my pockets
Trying to remember when they were all whole
Think of every detail
As the summer sun disappears
Leaving me alone and laying in the middle of a lawn
One afternoon


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