Just drove by, 30th and Eagledale Drive; Can you believe Mr. Hickman's still alive? Believe this new gray wind of used to be and winter? Just the other day, I was nine - on a yellow bike by Danberry Drive, riding away with skinned knees and innocence. Back then I knew the suntanned beauty of now; the simple perfect of hazel eyes - the great mystery of railroad tracks, the apocalypse of dusk. I'd run back home through the Brown's backyard, home to my childhood god, to the cluttered heaven of then, with dirty hands and surety.