Jaws Of Life

There, overlooking the river, atop the oldest hill we have, the sky will hang above us, blue shot with streaks of clouds. We'll come together from opposite ends of the park, our children running. Hearts throbbing in a cage of ribs. We'll skin our knees and cry even though it won't be anything to cry about. The wasps will freeze soon. Blood will continue to rush. It's nothing to extinguish. Those under the hill will continue to sleep and it's okay to miss them.