I remember
Those splendid days
So full of hope
And laced with timeless wonder

Those splended days
Each and every one of them
Loved, as if they were treasures in a chest
As if they were colors and magic, floating through air

Those Sundays
When I would sneak out and peek into the mailbox
Sure that I was invisible to the world
With that same hope

Maybe an early Hogwarts letter?
Maybe an early birthday present?
Something wonderful,
Something just for me

Now and then,
I catch a glimpse of that very same
Sunday hope, still living with magic
Inside of my mailbox.