burbling creeks sweep over our feet
the basketballs stuck on the roof-
somebody said that they won’t be our friend
so we play with the man on the moon

we scoot down the street with no helmets
and cycle the length of the track
mum makes dinner in the time that it takes us
to walk to the milk bar and back

our feet pick up all the loose gravel
we use every stone we can find to make rings
inviting the fairies to come dance with us
hoping we’ll catch sight of their wings

we climb to the tops of the monkey bars
my sister can skip four whole rungs
we sit on the couch in the sun room
and watch some old movie about bugs

we drink tea from my new porcelain tea set
and make up dances to dads old cds
we jump off the top of the bunk bed
and trust that we will land on our feet