"Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack
all dressed in black, black, black..."
their song rings out above the trees
and skips weightlessly across the clouds
as girls scuff their Mary Janes
to the jump rope's swirling beat

"...they jumped so high, high, high
they touched the sky, sky, sky..."
tired eyes watching from nearby porches
cast silent prayers heavenward,
that their hearts would always be this light
and their laughter last a lifetime


Buddah Moskowitz said...

I'm not that old (48, wait, maybe I am), but I have watched my 15 year old daughter (who used to sing Mary Mack) and prayed that her life would be as light as when she was younger. Great poem.

Charity said...

I love trading places in poetry, or just revisiting our memories...

julia said...

There's a lovely, dreamy quality to this that i love.

Optimistic Existentialist said...

I agree with Julia, there definitely is a dream-like quality to this piece.

Charity said...

Julia, Thanks so much. It's wonderful to have your voice and feedback here!

Charity said...

Optimistic, thank you. I appreciate your consistent feedback. It's like having a literary family.
I suppose it is a bit nostalgic, and a bit optimistic at once.