Rocking chairs on big front porches

Sunrises piercing through tree clusters

Little wooden steps leading up to a child’s treehouse

Forever scriptures handwritten in the sidewalks

Freshly painted wooden fences while the good dog nostrils flare and sniffs out your familiar scent on the other side

That perfect song coming on the beats while I walk

Leaf piles teasing me to be a child again

The fierce but quiet ederly with their mighty walking batons

Little toy lawnmowers to mimic our chores

The occasional patio waves from people that still enjoy a good newspaper comic

Early morning porch lights flickering

Belly full of morning coffee and brain full of fresh thoughts

I’ll think about taking over the world at least 10 times while I pace

All the while enjoying the freedom of not having that responsibility anymore

Fall leaf drift on old roofs

Little yard signs telling Lassie “you can’t shit here”

Brave ground hogs on their haunches to watch me pass

That early morning air, misty and audible