I Remember…

by Ruby Bouhassira

I remember rushing through the forest on two wheels,
“For the first time.
The wind blowing not only alongside me, but in me,
Acting as my own personal encouragement and pushing me along.”

I remember rushing through the forest on two wheels,

For the first time.

The wind blowing not only alongside me, but in me,

Acting as my own personal encouragement and pushing me along.

The green and brown patched quilt of trees that hang over me as a canopy passing by in a blur of color; The vibrant, extraordinary detail,

Unseen to the eye.

Scratching the paved path, moving along,

The vehicle ticking each time a wheel turns.

Bumps on the path jolting me upwards,

Holes in the path forcing me down.

Letting the road take me forward,

Unsure of where I will land,

But not stopping nevertheless,

Because this is the ride of my life.

 

I remember the crisp white paper,

The smell of freshly sharpened pencils.

Everything neat,

Like a newly made bed.

Walking through the halls as a new person,

Starting fresh.

No scribbles,

No ripped paper,

No feeling that I just can’t work anymore.

Yet.

 

I remember the dozens of plates on the table,

The warm glow of the room.

My family’s smiling faces,

A sister I had not seen in so long.

The biting cold that sliced my face,

Whenever a crack of an open window revealed the outside world,

To a warm, cozy fantasy.

We all rejoiced in saying:

“DIG IN!”.

Gobbling down the food brought wonderful tastes to my mouth:

Flavors, shapes, patterns.

All forgotten as I swallowed mouthfuls,

Of wonderful, wonderful food.

 

I remember the rooftop sunset in front of me.

The final bit of orange sun peeking out from behind the clouds,
A mere speck fighting to restore its power.

The clouds are swallowing the sun.

Mounds of white fluff tease me,

As I long to lounge on them.

Striking orange, yellow, red, and blue,

A vast rainbow of colors stretched across the evening sky.

I was on top of the world,

Staring down at the sunset.