Poem #15: 19:20

When they give the automatic letters
I always immediately think “rustling leaves”
and just like that I’m back to my childhood
at Roslyn Avenue, with the maple trees and mulberries,
the honeysuckle and tiny wild strawberries
growing between the cracks of the sidewalk.
I would remember the way we would squeeze dandelions
to see the milk, the mystery of the dead fireflies
that always greeted us on summer mornings.
Did they just hate mason jars? Or could they not survive captivity?
The face on the bottom right corner of the screen
gives us additional letters, looking as determined as possible.
C - The caramel candies I got for a penny from the corner store.
D - Our dogs, Lady and Chance, who liked to sleep underneath our porch.
M - Mina, one of my best friends, who suddenly got too old to play with boys.
A - Atlantic City, home of the best beach pizza and salt-water taffy...
The puzzle is easy, but I’m miles away from solving it by the time the letters turn.
“What’s wrong with you?” he says, bumping my elbow. “That was so easy!”
“Nothing,” I reply, and wrap my arms around him.
“I was just thinking about something else.”