we sat on the edge of sweet afternoon,
swung our tiny bare feet over Saturday –
blue and deep – took vows worth their weight
in giggles that we’d never go to sleep
just tell each other a zillion stories,
stories that would shadow dance around,
disappear at the angle of the darkened door
then sneak back on the wall like pixies,
sure that by Sunday we’d have counted
all the bunnies on each other’s pjs. . .
but the rising moon smiled down
when she found us huddled in the middle –
double hug – and the wind whistled low to warn
your mom that our blanket had slipped to the rug.