The little boy lies on his back, staring up at the sky,

And thinking how much fun it would be, to walk on the clouds,

Staring at the place where the sky meets the ground, and wondering at its resemblance to a giant snow globe,

And he stands up not minding the grass stains on his back,

And runs and runs until he reaches the place that he saw,

Then collapses, giggling

Not sure why he had run out in the first place,

All his attention suddenly given to the ladybug in front of him,

Scooping it up in sticky fingers, allowing it to crawl through,

He claps his hands over it, and when he peers through his fingers, he sees that it's not moving,

And he is ready to cry,

Can not imagine anything worse then having killed the ladybug,

And then it flies away, and again he laughs with delight,

All his problems gone,

He grins up at the sky, feeling the water on his head,

Seeing the rain and giggling with delight

And he twirls around happily,

Letting the water drip down his small freckled face,

Dancing until he's soaked,

And cold and his clothes are drenched.

But he just laughs happily,

Loving it.

Loving the way the drops of water dripped off the edge of his nose and loving the way his soaking wet hair was plastered to his head.

And he kicks off his tennis shoes, not paying any attention to the fact,

That they cost thirty dollars plus tax,

Leaving them in the grass and flinging off his socks,

Sprinting across the grass again,

His feet slipping and sliding,

And his laughter still ringing through the air,

The sound of happiness,

The sound of innocence

The sound of freedom.