The wheels are whirring once again,
bright streaks of colors fill the air,
they spin like they did long ago,
with laughter chasing every turn.
Old pairs unearthed from dusty past,
new ones shining on eager feet,
we glide on sidewalks, bouncing high,
the world becomes a skating rink.
Quondam heroes of the street rise,
with music echoing through time,
each spin a whisper from the past,
as roller skates regain their glow.
They never really disappeared,
just hid away, waiting their time,
now back, they twirl and zip along,
reviving joy in every glide.