On many warm afternoons,
I would sit at a neighbor’s front yard,
Alone on a wooden bench,
that had a shine from excessive use.
It was the best place to be
For it gave me uncorrupted view
As my parents walked towards me.
They would dismount the bus,
hike hundred and ten steps,
To get the full view of me waiting.
And when they appear in my sight,
I would run down the small hill
With my arms outstretched,
as they try to calm their breaths.
I was happiest if I got a candy
But if their pockets were empty,
I was just as happy to have them back.