Captured Moment in a Jar

May I paint you a poem of fugacious perfection,

where clocks and time intertwine on the second,

moments unmeasured, time jumps afar

captured moments,

in a jar.

Firefly chases in the cooling summer nights,

tousled hair in faces – o' we would fight

- but the temperaments of youth never bothered too far

we walked along railroad tracks, capturing moments –

in a jar.

Ghostman in the graveyard played after the street lights came on.

jukebox diner mornings that started before the break of dawn

wind in my face defiance on the pegs of a bike's back wheel

hands on his shoulders, the freedom tasted real.

thirteen – 

unbothered & carefree  – a hidden art to be.