She traded in her new iPhone for an old pogo stick
And hopped down the street from the pawn shop
She swapped her red three-inch heels for converses
With scuff marks made by the smiles of memories
That weren’t hers, but paralleled her daydreams of
Bouncing down the color chalked sidewalks again,
With the vibrations of the spring coil that was now
Shivering through her straightening spine and up
Her soda pop stained teeth and back down to the
Holes in her black and yellow Charlie Brown socks.
She thumped through her old neighborhood with
Her headphones pumping the theme songs of the
Shows that she quoted with her pigtailed friends
On the tire swings that she now gleamed past as
She popped down over to the riverside where her
Dad taught her to cast a line with her older brothers,
And then rested on the back hill of the interstate
And removed her head phones to listen to the soft
Whistles and roars of the background soundtrack
To the evening still-life fireworks with a single
Comet that took her nerves through a stream of
Memories as her fingers combed the grass under her.
With an orange peel smile stretching the corners of
Her elastic face, she awoke from under the maple tree
In the tall-grassed field along the dirt road where she
Had her first kiss with Jeremy Lee in the sixth grade,
And took her daisy-white basket, single-gear bike
Right down the dusty road that swayed and curved
Back into the town where she wore her smile like her
Blue and green sundress for the last few moments
Before she handed back her classic roller skates and
Cassette player for her pencil skirt and leather briefcase,
Redressed herself in shades of gray, and lived accordingly.