Sun-damaged hair bouncing between my tired eyes,

the flapping of my stretched skin with every stride,

pink glasses sliding off as sweat glides by, 

 dust is kicking up around the old high school track,

a group of soccer players are doing their warm up just ahead,

7:59 and the sun begins to simmer into a pool of blood orange,

my heart beating at a tempo of 160 per minute,

and I am living. 

 

A lifelong friend visits me during the hell days of summer,

he is the ice cold apple juice to my scrambled eggs,

nothing new, nothing special, 

a greeting embrace melts into a clumsy living room waltz,

the heat of our friendship is our music for today, 

 two heads bump in a turn and laughter is the child,

cheeks becoming apples and tears are creeks and rivers of my adolescent face,

this is the magic we've been craving,

and we are living.

 

Beaten up shoes filled with bits of turf here and there,

an instrument that no one can seem to recognize is in my grasp,

"8 to 5! 8 to 5!" sounds like a chant of the crazies,

a nosy fly landed on the nape of my neck and I cannot move,

singing out parts to the words of "Dah,dah,dah,dah!",

the lights of the stadium wake up,

homework is waiting but music is our lover, 

and we are living. 

 

I am a free child, 

We are a happy pair,

We are disciplined humans, students, musicians,

and I am living.