When the sun sets on hot summer days,
I sit in a white rocking chair on my wooden porch and

lull myself half-asleep to the rhythm of moths’ wings tapping against the light above me

Somewhere between waking life and subconscious dreams
I imagine myself young again–

Bombing hills hands-free on my bicycle
Shouting to my friends, “First one to grab the handlebars loses!”

Sneaking into neighbors’ yards together,
Hiding in the shadows,
Slipping into pools and silently splashing the surface

to chase the summer heat from our tan skin
Hopping fences unsurveilled
Racing across fresh-cut grass
Screaming lyrics to songs we sang with all our hearts–
Devilishly daring each other to “Wake and run!” 
Ringing doorbells, hearts racing
Living room lights flash on as we disappear in the dark,
We float on adrenaline and radio waves buzzing above us

We enter the park on Radburn
Slip beneath the metal slide —
that a few short summers ago burned our delicate skin.
One of us asks, “Remember launching ourselves from up high to the sound of the swing chains clanging against those rusty poles?”–

We pass a lighter and  smoke stolen cigarettes
The tiny orange glow burns sweet tobacco wrapped in white paper 
Each inhale illuminates our delinquent detour and
Rests on endless exhales of smoke,  filling the abandoned playground 
This soundtrack still plays in my head whenever I think of us
Then and how we are or must be now
These memories get tangled in the humid web spun all around us
Wherever we are–
I smile and laugh at our childish excitement
As I listen for secret laughter on this lazy street and hope
That the kids up the block are adding to the mischief.