That summer: I was seven, he was nine.
he had auburn ringlets and sunkissed cheeks,
He was rough and tumble, dirty, and mine.
We loved enough for a lifetime, in just weeks.
We skipped stones in the river at sunset,
we danced barefoot in the street after dawn,
We held hands under a mosquito net
and dreamed of together in his back lawn.
He walked to my house all alone at night;
he broke my window with a bat and ball;
he didn't understand his wrong from right,
but given the chance i would relive it all.
We weren't yet ready but where passionate
He was the only love, i don't regret.
***that's right, i try sonnets for fun.