and i know.

i climb out of the car of two newly-brunette sisters,
the open door allowing the radio's serenade to escape,
and play for the night sky.
and i know everything will be alright.

our feet pound the bleachers, our voices call out to a rubber sphere
careening uncertainly through the heavy air.
the croon of the net swishing through the air meets me.
and i know everything will be alright.

our bodies fly tentatively through the air, the metal springs
squeaking cautiously as we laugh and shout.
i look up to see a cloud shaped like two igloos.
and i know everything will be alright.

we sleep in late, ignoring the ticking clock and the steadily rising sun.
we play i spy on a wall acting as a collage.
i smile sleepily, finding the boy with his face painted like a cat.
and i know everything will be alright.

the windows are down and the cold air mingles with the heater's gust.
i take a drink of milk and smile at you, resting lazily in the back seat of a speeding car.
the scent of cigarette smoke mixed with a feeling of freedom greets my senses.
and i know everything will be alright.