Sitting in a circle on the rug, staring blankly at one another,
games we had already played, nothing to say, eyes falling sleepily away.
The air musky and thick,
the rug, one of many shades of beige,
sunlight drifted in and provided some vitamin c,
but was then interrupted by some passing clouds.
Sophia sprang up and slipped on her sandals, beckoning us all to follow.
Annabel ran up to her, always by her side
and Chester and I tagged along begrudgingly.
We headed towards the field at the end of the lot,
the one where he had buried a time capsule last spring,
and had sledded in all the past winters.
In summer the cattails filled with pond water
and geese would flock in numbers, the forest a jungle,
where adventures could be had.
We opened the tall gate, creaking just slightly,
it’s structure over-filled with blackberry vines,
the ones we’d collected for smoothies,
when we’d desired the taste of fresh berries.
The grass mushy beneath our sneakers,
the sun mellowly hanging high in the sky, warming our backs,
creating golden-brown tans on our necks.
At our feet little yellow and violet blooms were blossoming,
creating a scene as radiant as alice in wonderland,
dozens of little petals bunched together, bursting with color.
Along the blossoms butterflies did rest,
landing for brief moments and launching themselves around all our heads.
Chester looked at me dreamily, as we lay side-by-side, observing the clouds.
Sophia and Anna yelled out our names, and we sprung from the grass,
leaving imprints behind.
When we had reached the boundary where the forest began, we peered in,
trying to guess what was waiting up ahead.
I dared to step in first,
leading the group on the narrow-ridden path of dirt.
A clearing opened up, with the same dense oak lying sweetly on the ground.
The ground was covered with stomped down,
forgotten autumn leaves.
Ones that had lost their bright colors,
and looked nearly dead.
No longer could we see the blue and puffy clouds as before,
the sky was crowded with hundreds of angular branches or more.
Our noses caught a whiff of honeysuckle,
and we all smiled sweetly at each other.
Chester climbed up the tree branch and began to walk, graceful as ever,
not stumbling a bit,
he grabbed out for my hand
and led me down the winding path.
The farther we ventured,
the more the ground seemed to give underneath our feet,
soon we felt as if we were walking through quicksand,
our shoes surely ruined.
We tried leaping from one branch to the other,
yet only getting muddier.
In the heart of the forest we stood,
not being able to find a way out, Annie and Chester squealed unmoving.
Sophia and I spotted a skinny evergreen
we could all easily climb, and shimmied up to a good sitting place.
Kicking off our shoes with relief
and revealing our muddied feet.
Annabel raced to follow
and was soon too out of the sinking muck below.
Chester stood in disbelief,
but quickly snapped out of his trance
and joined us in the skinny evergreen.
Wild children we were,
wild children we will be,
sitting in the skinny evergreen.