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