Childhood, Neighborhood

Cicada shells that sticky hands attach to dirtied shirts Humid evenings echo with jovial screams and patient parents calling curfew Morning dew and the crinkling of autumn leaves on foot to school Soon, blizzards bring free days for slippery sleigh rides and endless sweet cocoa The melting icicles mean days back outdoors and hunting eggs on Easter Then school would end, and the cycle would begin again Until it wouldn’t, and I’d wonder when those times had reached their end.