By | Connie Xie
We walked hand in hand,
through the back alleys of our neighborhood.
The warm summer evenings on our way home,
became a scrapbook of memories.
I saw as we raced to see who ran faster down a hill,
a promise to travel the world.
Our secrets, sketched upon the palms of your hands.
A blur of test papers and chalk boards.
You became a breeze,
in my elusive childhood memories.
This morning two girls ran past me.
Holding hands while laughing,
on their way to preschool.