Milk Chocolate

The air is like the milk chocolate

We pressed in our mouths

When the day was yellowish-gold

And the grass, twisted and sweet

Like green licorice.

I do not  mind

That the days were never long enough,

And that when we waved our hands

In the smoky dusk,

And felt the thin sweat of daylight

Drip down our necks

We were not fully satisfied.

There was never enough time

To grow up

Between the flower crowns

And sand buckets

The thick trees and wide rivers,

But we did.

And I know we are better for it—

Better, fuller, deeper,

But still not satisfied