we wrote them in chalk back in the day white only always broken a nub clutched in nubby fingers
lines we called words in and amongst the hop scotch double dutch four square
yesterday still there isn’t vision an amazing thing awe-full truly
I mean awe filled
Denise Catherine Brynn Kelly I am sure there were more stopping on their own way to Susies Robins Annas Maries
their homes across streets down blocks traversable like cat’s cradle threads
as long as mom could trace our path from upstairs windows
this smile matches one I wore wrinkle-free
crouching in polyester floral shorts mother made on her Singer barefoot
wringing out rosies that made us giggle and roll with joy pure gladness
only we knew silly bright the definition of delight only I recall sparkling notes of life still alive
at my fingertips this scratching of black dots across white sheets rectangles of sidewalk wrote upon by childhood wonder