When we were little, we would eat sweet peaches with tall glasses of milk

and our faces, normally solemn, would light up at the delicacies before us.

When we were little, we would laugh and giggle till the very end of dinner

and then escape from the kitchen table, our feet pounding on the hardwood floors.

When we were little, we would run barefoot through the midnight grass

and spin and spin until north became south and we finally fell, dizzily, to the ground.

When we were little, we would play shadow puppets on the white-washed walls

and exchange hushed whispers as we clutched hands in the dark.