Indian Summer

Last night,
was a night,
that,
as
a
kid,
I would
play
kick
the
can.
The
whole
neighborhood
would
turn
out.
We
would
wage
our
battle
in
my
Family's
yard.
Skinned
knees
and
tanned
skin
reminding
us
of
a
well
lived
summer.
In
the
hazy
glow
of
nightfall
we
would
hide
in
our
favorite
places.
Skin
glistening
with
sweat,
crickets
chirping,
adreline
racing
through
veins.
The
sound
of
the
can
clattering
on
concrete;
awaking
all
of
us
to
come
from
hiding.
Our
voices
would
fill
the
night
air
as
fireflies
danced.