Their worn blue jeans and dusty old converse began to fade under the setting sun.
Summer was in the air and boys were on the run.
Long locks and blond curls danced across sparkling blue skies,
Hands tightly clasped around wooden sticks that became tossed aside.
Their bike tires traced lines across the silent desert
And soft echoes of laughter filled the air.
With the kick of a foot, a canvas was created from dusty pebbles.
The summer was free and their spirits released.
They were boys and they were young.
Curious and wild.