Walking home from playing all day
in the bright light of sun
I noticed a shift
from clearness of sight
to the muskiness of old movies I’d seen on TV
not black and white
but not yet full color –
like The Wizard of Oz before the tornado –
I felt that shift move inside of me
like I was in a movie myself
and the world around me was no longer real
the swings on the playground
hanging still as if never used,
the gully in the schoolyard
absent of echoing voices,
my backyard at the end of the ally
seeming farther away than it really was…
Suddenly
I felt my own legs running beneath me
carrying me swiftly past the strewn whiffle ball bat
and frisbees that has been used as bases,
up the tiny mound of hill to the kitchen door of my home –
cannot get there fast enough
is something chasing me?
My mom’s figure beyond the windows
beckoning with her apron and clanging pots
I can smell the spaghetti sauce as I fling open the door
and arrive to the next part of the day
thanking God
I didn’t get stuck
in the
in-between