The hive

June 3, 2013

Frisbees hum and scooters buzz
and every two minutes someone singsongs
“Five more minutes,”
and when a kid shrieks “Mommy!!!”
a dozen heads snap up.
And so we breathe in and out in our collective way,
our breath disguised as volleyballs and
fairy houses and pages turned slowly,
and then evening gives a great sigh
and we trace our paths home
where we will turn the day into
memories of palest gold.

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