Fifth Grade Glory

My fifth grade mind traces-
the existence back
to a hope.

The etherial hope that lingers
in the clouds
above shade trees with
no elbow room-
that line residential streets
with homes quietly
announcing their glory.

I sit between two such trees
my mind impressed
by the beauty of

(the trees)
my small world.

In my fifth grade mind
I try to wonder
about the beauty the rest
of the world holds
against my Tycos and GI Joes.

The birds sing their morning songs
The changing leaves dance by
in maddening throngs.

Sweet scents of apple and dirt
and childhood meander by.
-Then it rains. 1