I dream of my youth without falling asleep. I remember vividly the
technocolor of cheap, pre-anime cartoons with stop-motion for dramatic
I remember eating cupcakes and trick-or-treating with a cadre of
friends, not followed closely behind by some doting, worried parent. I
remember watching lighting storms from Howard's garage, with a bowl of
popcorn and a mind full of wonderment at the blue flashes streaking
across the sky.
I remember looking out the back window of the station wagon as we drove
away from the only home I had ever known, which was to be followed in
quick succession by three different homes within another year.
I catch flashes of the red riding lawn mower my father would drive
around, with me on his lap, and how the sun would shine on a summer day
as a lone cloud passed over, cooling us with a shower.
I remember how after those rain storms we would race blades of grass, or
popcicle sticks, down the sides of the street to the gutters.
I remember how I knew nothing of the world, yet did not care.
But I can't reclaim that feeling.
-- r^2 "resident resident"