Bri's Return To His Childhood ….[ I Wish It Could Be ]

The sound of the traffic is quite soothing to hear. It comes through our windows and into each ear. There's no hint of a smirk, &, better, not one sneer. [I won't go so far as to say "road noise" brings cheer.] There's no honking or squealing of tires on pavement, & rarely a siren. Yes, really there is traffic-behavement. That last word I must have "made up", underlined in red. Isn't that how words evolve, MOST by voices now dead? This poem's evolving ‘cause I'm waiting for my wife's PC. I place pointer over symbol, but it doesn't respond to me. It seems to be like my wife, who, to me, may not respond, unless I go to my bag of tricks and pull out my BIG wand. I, of course, refer to my "magic wand" of fairytale fame, which turned a pumpkin into a coach & healed the lame! Ok! I admit, in Cinderella no one healed anyone "lame". But the Prince in the tale did slip heels (shoes) on a dame. Oh, those were ‘the days' of my innocence, my childhood. I'd return to ‘those days', YEARS ago, if only I just could. I'd climb trees, catch frogs, & collect feathers; yes I would. AND I'd make my Mom so happy, while behaving so darn... "GOOD". (August 12th,2023) Bri :)