another page out of my diary, no title yet, open for suggestions.

[alpin]

I used to be so sure the hole in the sandbox reached half way to China,
and we dug that hole with our own hands.

I knew if I wanted to ride Jeff's big wheel,
I had to deck him, then I had exactly 4 minutes before
his sister Stacey would come out and chase me home.

And how 'little people' lived in the stumped
chimney behind the fence of our
apartments.
How they liked it when we danced naked on
their smoke stack.

Sure that the best toys were found in the dumpster
And if we played Poor People enough, we wouldn't become poor,
or we would know what to do if we did.

Today
I am sitting on a black swing held by chains
suspended 2 feet from the ground that leads to China,

Wondering where Jeff Barrick is, and if he knows I am sorry.

Appeasing the 'little people' with naked poetry
laid across that old brick chimney

Still sure the best toys are found in the dumpster
And waiting for this game of Poor People to end.

Memories of a time past. Each time I hear a wooden screen door slap against the frame, I'm taken back to when I was small at my Granny's, running out her back door so I could be the "Queen" in her rose garden. Just call it "Memories of Youth."

[Willy]

"Sands of Time"

[Andrew_Marriott]

how about
"Lessons learned"

------------------
Eh, Whit ?

I like that Di, "Sands of Time"

[Willy]

Thanks! (probably already taken, huh...?)

[alpin]

Any more before I seal it's fate?