I remember fences surrounding the sidewalked neighborhood,

hearing calls for kids to come and play.

I remember running through the lush green grass of the yard,

and swinging under the sun’s rays.

I remember the rough wooden deck,

splinters that turned my face puffy and wet.

I remember the sprinklers,

creating rainbows of color by the play set.

I remember hopscotch and squiggly roads drawn with vibrant chalk,

playing cross guard as the bikes and scooters flew by.

I remember the walks to the park with Mom and Dad,

monkeying around on the monkey bars as my sister yelled “Hi!”

I remember my first white, fluffy pet,

my sister and I laughing at his puppy zooms.

I remember playing dress up and house,

my sister the bride and I the groom.

I remember being told, “We’re moving,”

beginning a new chapter at eight.

I remember furrowing my brow and crying,

any other place I knew I would hate.

I remember driving up,

saying, “hello” to a new house, as my sister and I began to roam.

I remember running outside,

the lush green grass under my feet as I finally saw a home.