To start a new poem,

It was the day we laughed so hard
we made the lavender bloom

I was five
it was crisp and clear

we were running like horses
a game of make-believe
happiness all balled up in our hands
shooting out of us in shrieks and bellows

I’m a cat
she declared

and I decided I was too

a fire-starter cat
with nothing to do
but chase the wind

they say it whips you in the face
but this isn’t how it works
if you run hard enough
the wind bores right into you

I don’t remember anything else
except the smell of the sun
sweet as meringues

the wind carried the rest away.