To my childhood self

Where were you going--
on your bike that warm October day
in your little midwest town?
You sought adventure on a whim;
it could be anywhere.
Off to the fields where kites were flying?
...past the pretty teacher's house,
and then to climb the vacant stockyards' fence.
Or pooling pennies with your friends
like little communists
who knew the candy from the corner store
would treat us all.

You lay upon your bed
remembering post office games--
the hurried kiss
within that darkened office
in the basement of the church,
while adults pondered ponderous things
above our heads.

Where did she go?
...the girl who signed
that fourth-grade valentine
you kept within your drawer for years
to read,
and smile,
and read again, and know
that sadness is a treasure, sometimes.

I learned from you
to savor all things new.
Free of guile, you molded me
with hope and qualm in counterpoint
and then too willingly, were still.
I hear you calling now, "Remember."

Come across the years to me;
I would not leave you.
Come with me, to open once again
that treasure box of smiles and tears.
We'll meet, and touch our own eternity
as I did once before
when life began.
~