Top of the roof
Daddy told us not too,
while Mom sourly warned.
Though they scolded,
loud and clear,
we devilishly disobeyed.
Up on that roof top,
at least 30 feet from ground,
carelessly balancing on the shingles,
we were so young,
the nights lasted decades,
while the stars evaporated fear,
they smiled at our virgin eyes,
and when a gust of wind would catch our balance,
we'd lay under the ratty quilt grandma made.
The night sky was so full of life,
a serenity in a chaos of lights,
yet a fulfilling stillness,
the kind that cannot be broken
Until the day we got caught.
Daddy yelled while we ran threw the window,
preparing for the worst,
hearing Mom's fear in curses,
we both sat quietly,
reminiscing on that freedom,
that longing for serenity.
After taking in the fear-
we went up to our rooms,
and after one tapping on the wall between us,
we both met at the window once more.