wished us back

I wished us back to when we were children. This morning I stayed in bed listening to the day beginning. My window open, gauzy white curtain fluttering, birds sang, trucks rumbled past. I remembered a childhood where dawn beckoned, calling us to pull our shoes on and tip-toe across the house. Sneaking outside while mom and dad snored was a thrill. The dew on the grass dampened my canvas shoes and the blades made me itch. We went out to the old "garage" across the drive. It was our "secret hideout" when parents were still unaware in their slumber. We got into things we shouldn't. We poured concrete mix and pumped the old well out back. We stirred and mixed, concocted; we imagined. We dreamed. So I wished us back this morning. Because I'm not sure who you are today... but I knew you back then. When we were in it together. When the morning sun washed rosy pink over our faces.