children on Friday
throw care out of two-story windows
their weekend is a small miracle
filled with music from old stereos

the boys send kisses to the girls
and congregate for prospects of play
the street is its own world
glistening with magic from the sky

dreary winter has quieted to sleep
flowers can find their perfect bloom
doors permanently closed for so long
creak open to invite warm air

children dance with bare feet
and tell stories fueled by quick laughter
their freedom is a wondrous privilege
for futures are a thousand years away

the hiss of dusk
claps like thunder to dethrone time
threatens with the dread of Monday
but the children don’t worry
their kingdom is a moment forever