Chiquita

When it hit. It ached.

Each day was filled with friends and life and love and school and…

It was Us against the world, bro.

Cruising the boulevard and chased by cops.

We were scared of lost time, but never spent more.

Always knew the summer would come.

10 months of life for 2 months of living.

We knew where to escape together.

Summers were my time. Your time. Ours.

19 years it went.

Partners, understated best friend.

Protector of my heart.

Keeper of my world.

Childhood secrets, sworn.

But, those summers.

Salt and mud and dirt and fresh air.

Gravel under tires and our country in the air.

The hymn kept rhythm with our hammers.

We sang. And we laughed. And we cried.

Free. 

Ready to be grown up, but living like children.

Late nights, early mornings.

Afternoon showers, lunch breaks and Dorito fingers.

Hank strumming in the background.

His giggle and eyes dance along with his jokes.

Days were never grey with that smile.

One ray a week of his sunshine.

Scribbled letters and his simple words,

“I love you Chiquita, I’ll be coming home soon.”