It is not simply years
It is decades now
since we ran barefoot along the flats
so fast the wind we made
would take our breath away

Decades since we skipped rope to
went down fishing by the alligator pond
since we hopped the squares of the hopscotch
we etched on the asphalt
with white house paint to last forever

When we counted our greatest losses
among them is a brother
that time has taken from each of us
when they were far too young to go

Today I found a thin link chain
in a corner of the basement
Curled my hand around it like we did back then
ready to give it a toss
and jump the squares till I got to home
turn around and hop back to square one
all the way without stepping on the line

In my clutch
that chain felt like a rosary
a silent prayer
that we could start all over again