I play ball with Aaron,
\nshout at Olivia,
\nspy Michael behind a tree.
\nJack tosses me a ball
\nand I catch his open sweetness,
\nblow bubbles at Greta and Mark,
\nwave at Drew.
\nWhere did all these lovely children
\ncome from?
\nHow did this street become miraculous?<\/p>\n
How does one
\ncatch happiness in their hands?
\nTake recess from fears and sorrows?
\nWho started this blooming trellis?
\nSo many flashes in the air.
\nVoices, composing songs
\nlike Billy Joel.
\nWhat happened,
\ntaking a walk through time,
\nliving,
\nslamming doors,
\nfalling over fences,
\nand then this clear beautiful place
\nall started.<\/p>\n
We are mothers and fathers,
\npeople secretly awed,
\nhugged by fate,
\nkissed, and kissed
\nover again.
\nWe are children,
\nwhose eyes
\nlook down from stars,
\nand find gifts like these
\nat the bottom.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I play ball with Aaron, shout at Olivia, spy Michael behind a tree. Jack tosses me a ball and I catch his open sweetness, blow…<\/p>\n