That Yellow Memory

At my school there's a big foot bridge
to cross from one side of the campus to the other.
Today was the second time
That I crossed and smelled what
reminds me of my childhood.
It smelled like wet cement.

It took me back to
being five years old, in the summer.
Five, when my sister and I would play with the hose
in the driveway, after helping wash my grandmother's car.
It's how the cement smells when there's water on it
and it's soaking it up with the sun hitting it spot on.

What a wonderful age.
Five, when the backyard would look like a soft field
of sourgrass and clover.
Those little yellow wildflowers, with the long stalks,
that I couldn't(& still can't) help but smile everytime I see some and the weedy
leaves that you keep looking through to find that one with the four lucky growths.

Mmm, being five.