Jumping from the bank into the river
near where we all lived
Summer days, humid, stifling,
finding the only respite around
Taking turns diving in
while the rest watched excitedly
Sparing a few seconds to appreciate birds
crossing high from one treetop to the other
The soft whisper of wind seemed to speak to us
and approve of our folly
Those days were the launch of our lives,
reserved to daring, juvenile to adult
Auspicious and untethering
Mid-Aged Poetry 