i remember when our youth was tied

i remember the knots and the bikes 

we promised to trade for rocking chairs

the sound of strings on the front porch

and a tree every winter 

seen through our square window

when your silly teeth would open

amidst a black sea

emitting joy and red ribbons

the sound 

flapping in the wind

tiptoeing across ears and faces

how freely we flew with them

before landing

in trees of our own

connected by roots

and nothing more