"What''ll it be when I grow up?"
The boy wondered as he hugged to the bridge.
"What's over there waiting?" he thought.
"What's on that side of the life's oddly shaped ridge?"
Did he want to go, he wondered?
Did he need to leave this summer place?
"Can't I stay here feeling a while?
Can't I just hold onto this glowing-soft space?"
Summer sprays its indelible inks
Upon memories of the moments we clung
To our first sense of the coming span of time
and the soft-warm moment of feeling so young.