When the wind blows, leaves follow
A natural cleaning of the world, I assume
A reset, swept under the rug, returned to
That space between Neverland and Narnia
Gone. Never to be seen again

It’s been a year now, and the wind is blowing
The leaves, orange as lava, blanket the fields
A picnic, a spot to view the show
A warm spot to withstand the cold
Of three hundred days alone

Lightning. A fleeting flash of a memory
A flicker within the leaves, a shape
And you’re there
Your hands, course with time
Weave through the breeze like paper

You’ve changed, but not really
A loving gaze still felt, a gentle
Presence driving out the fear and
Uncertainty that persists like the constant
Ringing of a phone. Ringing. Ringing

Leave a message
Air escapes your thin frame like a flute
A deep breath of air, and we begin

I miss the busy roads
I miss eating out
I miss the positivity
I miss roaming about

I miss going to school
I miss giving hugs
I miss touching someone else
While I’m not wearing gloves

But I miss most of all
Just the plain old fun
So I miss the point of spreading fear
To all our little ones
 

Boom!

A large hand covered in dark green fur pounds against an invisible window, a young boy sitting on the floor on the other side.

Boom!

The creature the hand belongs to breathes heavily, and grunts with every swing.

Boom!

The window remains unaffected, and the boy unaware. The creature lowers its hand and breathes, watching the boy on the other side playing with cardboard blocks. The boy swings the blocks around and crashes them into his toy cars, making noises with his mouth as he goes.

The creature hangs its head in defeat. A light wind begins to blow from the darkness surrounding the creature, and the creature begins frantically pounding on the invisible window once more.

Boom!

Boom!

BOOM!

The boy's father walks over and sits down next to the boy, grabbing a toy car and pretending to race.

BOOM!

BOOM!