Smell of cut grass,
brings back memories
of better summers
as dear childhood chums,
we would play until
way past dark and
sit on that grass
so green and fresh.
Wishing on falling stars,
coming down from heaven,
telling stories and
watching fireflies.
As dew fell on the ground
in search of night crawlers,
we would find so many
into the can we would place them.
Voices calling to us,
our fun...
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