Charcoal

the smell of charcoal

does it not remind you of childhood?

fuelled the blaze of twinkled smiles

grilled our laughs into our skin

of flickered joy

as light and whim

on our swinging bench.

These minds still curious

of branch filled paths

and the smell of chopping wood

takes you back

to climbing those fences

into some school playground

how illegal!

But everything tastes better

when its forbidden.

So when we swing there

with stolen gooseberries

a moment lasts forever.