Box cart dreams

Cluttered sounds race through
thickened ,dusted air of a youth personified
Box cart rides propelled with carefree strides
Strides of innocence bliss to life
beyond adult responsibilities
Childish games we played
through imagined spaces we strayed
Under mom’s watchful eye,
our imaginations unlimited by azure skies
Skies of carefree blue, never shades of grey
Imperfect rubber wheels screeched and screamed
 over gaping potholes and stone
Pass the ghost house with halls of unruly kids of bone.
Stories told to scare us in the dark of night
Straight to bed we go without a fight
Over hills we go, pass fields of fire poppies
and mustard yellow grass.
Memories of muddy faces, as we played
with tattered shoes, black laces
Splashing in puddles of untamed youth
Mom’s recurring nightmare of the
endless washing lines on sunny days
Pegged with spirited results of the games we played
“What are you guys up to again?” she use to say
Hearts racing to toothless smiles and charms that pays
Captain of imagined pirate ship
Walk the plank or taste my whip
My brother and me, thick as thieves we’d be
Pinkie promises we made before late night cookie raids
Sometimes you’re lucky, sometimes not
I cherish these memories; it’s all I got