from a distant time, when

a younger, more agile, me

moved lighthearted and free

on your sturdy wooden frame.

Time has changed

us, no longer how we began—

your lacquer dull and mane worn,

distressed oak, commonplace

among cardboard boxes

in a basement corner

of my childhood home.

I almost remember

the wondrous places

we explored in harmonized

back and forth, back and forth—