I look down,
hoping to see something of interest.
All I see is the asphalt,
dark and glistening with the melted snow.
The aroma sparks a vision,
I close my eyes and breathe in the air.

It smells of 4th grade recess,
when real life seemed an eon away.
The rhythmic tap of jump ropes
and the smack of sneakers halts
as I open my eyes
and I am brought back to the lot.

I wander around and happen to see
Thirteen damp cigarette butts,
two green stripes cling to their necks,
each is smoked to the filter.
I am reminded that we
are what I once considered old

In the corner of my eye
Sean spins himself on a patch of ice,
a child escapes from his smile.