The slide was not always the slide.
The swings were other swings first
but then the wood-chippers came
and spat pine trees into the wide mouth
of the earth.
I kissed Alice once,
and she held me
Her fingers warm leaves
on my ears.
I’m not sure what happened then.
When I looked again
she was walking
toward my house,
in a cream-colored dress,
calling back to me.