Sandboxes Fraught With Danger

Little do the dwindling stray thoughts know that they are dwindling, or that they are stray.
To themselves they are large, in charge and present. They are the bosses of the alleyways.
Cold swims bring thoughts floating to the top of the pond of that time we drank cocoa, boiled eggs.
Warm swims bring remembered wanderings through freezer aisles with yoghurt and cheese.

Remember when we stalked the playground for the best place to sling a camera?
It slung, we swung, the leaves blew, you sang. Those are thoughts brought on by caramel candies.

There was a shovel, some sand and an eagerly awaiting bucket. The little one took cars and trucks.