I lazily stare up at the space above me ,
clouds of fire twirling , weaving and dancing between each other,
crimson shafts of light angling down
softly caressing the overgrown turf beneath me,
strewn with layers and lines of hazy pink and blue.
I wonder if those days still exist,
how ladybugs gathered on the metal shed under the willow tree in the yard
and how we spent hours picking flowers and shards of broken glass out of the tarmac ground thinking they were jewels.