At five I learned to sprint

for the window

when the fire trucks cried –

the three of us stood,

noses and palms pressed to the pane,

absentmindedly panting.

Four bare feet tucked under

ruffled hems,

two more hidden in footy pajamas,

all perched precariously

on tiny toes,

hands suctioned to the glass.

– ljg 1992