A waking dream slapped thecracked asphalt summers.
In the path basked an ice cream truck;
in the heat a melody played.
In this vivid past
I screamed full fledged with life so vast;
wanting anything sweet.
Tires tread memory.
I dread nostalgia of tired days;
hazy days which spun on.
Presents -
from my practical present day family.
Today in the winter of my mind
I treat summers as mosquito bites.
I hold dear to the Raid - I spray the past.
I'd hold them dearer if I could feel as warm
as I did shaking above the asphalt black.
Today,
I watch memory wide - eyed,
drive by shooting me
with insignificant plot lines and tunes.
Smiles with missing teeth stampede by me.
Regrets beget an indoor life
imploring:
"Don't step outside!"
Nothing changes nor disappoints.
My room looks the same as yesterday,
in the corners of my mind.
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