A Bird's Song

I welcomed back the shade and he climbed out the window.
He climbed out the window of the church where the old orchard used to be.
And then he ran across the street -- stepping on just the white ones,
planting his feet hard on the other side with his fists up in the air.
"I made it by 13!" he said.
For all seven years of his life we've been neighbors,
but I never really talked to him 'til then.

He reached in his pocket: "I've got matches." he said.
"Be careful kid, you better catch the world on fire before it catches you."