Half Insane and Loving It

I part the curtains of my memory and suddenly we are young again. Half cousin to a distant life, I recall summer skips and marble throws. The way we owned our little world on 2nd Avenue, and explored every nook and cranny of our Italian hub. Yes, they were the best years of our lives and we didn't know it. As summer sun danced upon our shoes, with a hammer we hit those little firecrackers and pow, pow, pow ! Banging pots and pans we woke everyone. Stomping, marching, and yelling with energetic voices. Who could miss three boisterous children, in the prime of their lives. Those were our free spirit days, strong legs and young fleshy arms that were hugged one day and slapped the next. Today I close the light gently on that flamboyant living. It was a cinema-scope moment of the seventies, one that won't return. Somehow we coped. Perhaps love was the healing balm the anoint of our resilient souls. We were young guns fired up for life. Always ready for adventure. Today I let the firecrackers pop in my head only once in a while, down comes the hammer, pow, pow, pow ! Black dots aligned you bro bring down the hammer one more time, as I watch gun smoke come out of the sidewalk. Poof! Silence. We were half insane, and loving it. The End.