home....another snap shot

My first best friend...
remembering her today.
She was four I was six when we met
We were what the suburb calls...
backyard neighbors.

There were no fences in those days.
One yard merged into the next...
an endless maze,
a tame jungle
of imagination.

Out back of my best friend's garage
was a patch of dirt.
For her father
it was an unsightly menace.
For us...
it was the place of dreams.
A refuge.

On hot summer days
we dug
in the dirt...
eventually creating a moon like crater.

On hotter summer days we
filled our shirts with dirt.
Cool
and
soft.
We sat in the child made crater...
little Buddha's...
calm and
happy.

I've longed to return to those simple days...
when all there was to do was
dig
and
dream.

And then...
today...
it came to me.

I can.

I can return.
I can be calm and happy.
I can go home.