Jack shake hands with Susan,
sees her smile against the light.
Susan catches on the face of Jack;
her glow is just as bright.
“Hey there, boy; would you like to run
out in the fields, just you and me?”
Astonished, afraid, put up for play
in a race for sense of amity
all and the same.
Running for tag, playing capture the flag;
exploring the grounds on the hillside.
Red Rover, Red Rover,
send your history right over;
wrapped up in arms, go fleeing
the cars on the wayside.
Susan gets the message;
Jack climbs to the top.
In that moment, time held to memory
of the games we’ve long forgot.
Switching off the leaders
‘bones cupped in the hand;
tossing out the lawn darts,
anxious of where they land.
Losing their marbles,
gaining a new shared experience.
Coming to terms,
Jack eyes at his household.
No plays left for winning,
no labels for what may
come about of the beginning
of the children’s need to play.
Innocent to the flow of grand design,
what’s mine is ours, is yours, is fine;
arm to arm, facing the beat of the sunrise.

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