August 25, 1973

We watched the barefoot children in green yards dart through shadows, playing their childish games. We saw their innocents and we knew that they were not us. Through open doors and windows, we saw them staring blankly at their flickering screens. They were sitting so close yet ignoring each other wishing they could be us. There was an old couple sitting on their front porch, fading from life. They smiled and waved, trying to remember a time when they knew how to be us. We pause for just a moment beneath the streetlights glow, your hands in the pockets of my jeans and mine on your shoulders. Our souls touched and we were happy to be us.