Through a neighbourhood under telephone wires,
And the orange glow of streetlights;
on a speeding bicycle in the cool summer air;
Under a navy blue sky accompanied by a white moon.
The product of and that is
this poem.
Before dusk as shadows stretch on upon an empty school;
highlighted orange by a dying sun.
The innocent glow of childhood baths;
things I would have never guessed important
now cherished memories.
Old letters to old ones.
If only when we looked back at the good old days,
we lived them like we knew that
those were the best days of our lives.
