I lose myself in the night sky.
It's something about the shy constellations,
Even as they hide behind the city lights.
Maybe they enjoy the chase.
Maybe its fun for them
To play hide-and-seek?
I loved that game as a child.
Summers even before I knew what summer was
Spent running through a park near my house,
Dad counting to a hundred near the tall palm tree.
I look for a corner in the picnic area
Near the old stone barbeques.
… Four, Five...
But I have a hard time finding a good place to hide.
… Eight, Nine...
I see a good spot, but it's too small
And I just don't fit in.
… Twelve, Thirteen...
So excited.
Manic, frenzied in my search.
Still no good hideouts.
… Fifteen, Sixteen...
I see the perfect place
At the intersection of an aging oak
And one of the stone barbecues:
Just there, an indent large enough,
Perfect for me.
… Eighteen, One Hundred! Ready or not, here I come!
What?
Already?
Too late:
He sees me, and I run away.
I feel him catching up to me.
Cheater! You didn't count a hundred!
Didn't you hear? I counted one hundred alright.
He catches up to me, tags me.
Can it be my turn now?
Nope, it's getting late. Time to take you back to your mom's.
Aww!
Don't worry. There's always another day.
But there isn't.
There aren't, there weren't, enough days.
Maybe that's how the stars feel.
So they can go ahead and hide as long as they want.
They have time.
