The red and blue chalk smothered our fingers
as we sat on the cold pavement outside our homes.
Dust and dirt buried itself below our nails.

Each star was drawn carefully in the blue square,
adjacent to rows of red and white.
Our American flag was a puzzle piece,
but we continued to shade each section in.

We sprinted to the curb
when headlights peeked our way,
and jet black tires rolled over our masterpiece.
“Those jerks,” we grumbled.

A dim street light towered above us,
surrounded by mosquitoes biting our bony ankles.

The empty spaces were finally filled
and our work was complete.
We began to walk inside,
tubs of chalk in hand,
faces filled with laughter,
until a raindrop



plummeted



onto





my




nose.