We could walk the craggedy side-
Walks
stubborn old Trees sending their roots
beneath them to better prop themselves up—
looking out over cascading rooftops and through
our Smog—
so they could make out the orange hum of a
California Afternoon sun reflecting off
the distant ocean.
joyous Willows drawing the lanes of the neighborhood avenues
tried to entangle their dancing threads in our hairs
As we traversed the mountainous sidewalks
onto which our melting 65-cent popsicles dripped
dye-drenched cherrybombs next to our plastic-soled sneakers—
And we snuck past gardens overrun by passionately-blossoming
Vines and wild rose bushes, where the paths changed every day
And wind chimes sang listlessly from sagging walls with cracked paint,
Our backpacks jingled despite our silent curiosity.
Forgetting the things behind us and things ahead,
Sunshine sloshed through tree-tops onto our happy pink cheeks,
all full of sweets,
as we slowly made our way back home,
along familiar streets.