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