Much of Life can never be explained but only witnessed

There were seven of us. There always was. Who knew 3 boys and 4 girls gathered in one location could cause such joy and happiness. We’d been best friends since before I can remember. I didn’t exist before we began. Alternate reality it seems for such admirable and alluring perfection. A.J. strums his ukulele softly to the chime of Grant and Michael’s soft clowning. Night’s blanket of stars strung across the sky, shining their divine elegant light and ready to descend down and gain our completion. The girls: Merilee, Mckenzi, Whitney and I laughing to the boys’ inane jokes. Soft warm breezes blew our hair dry from our recent Garden Park pool’s refreshment of its cooling waters. The flames from the campfire brown our roasting marshmallows. Freshly made hemp bracelets connected our friendship: Legos that reunite.

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions

I feel Fragile.

Like a speck of dust perched upon a windowsill.

Only time can tell where it will

End up.

Like a glass whimpering on the

Edge of the counter,

Waiting to be shattered.

Like a small child curled

In the closet behind the dresses

Holding their breath in fear their mother will

Find them.

Like a thin twig on the ground anticipating

That step that will snap it in two.

That’s how

Fragile.