Out My Window

Through my window, I watch children play. Over harvested fields, they move and run. Unmindful of the bite of stubble under their feet. Eager to spend their holidays in great fun. Some run around, kicking the ball, Passing it to the goal posts quick and smart While some in groups skip, hop and jump, A few like asteroids, through cosmic void, dart. By my widow I stand and watch their lively sport I can hear their shouts of joy and hilarity. Like tiger cubs, sometimes they fight, Alerting the neighborhood to their noisy gaiety. These scenes weave pictures of delight, Reminding me of the days of amusements wild. When such shadowy phantoms fill my brain, I yearn to be reborn once more a child.