Then I moved away. Time passed us by, didn’t it? There were some disagreements over the years quite a few tears. We grew apart. November turned into June and June turned into December. The snow fell hard, fast and everything iced over.
But Spring always comes, doesn’t it?
I’ll roll the sunroof back and switch on the radio. There are days, when “Brown Eyed Girl,” will play, and I see you. I can see you standing beneath the Georgia Moon with the cherry balm, cut-off shorts, those braids in your hair.
For, in that moment, we are twenty again, Suzy Q.
And we are free.