The sun was hotter.
You can tell.
Look at us squinting against it in photos then.
Everything washed out by the glare,
cheekbones, jawlines,
all detail surrendered.
Dazzled,
we could be anybody.

The gardens, look, they’re parched.
It hurt to walk on the grass.
We lay in scorched backyards
slathering butter on our chests,
chain-smoking, eating fluorescent cheesies,
swilling scarlet soda,
everyone burned red raw.

Oblivious,unformed,
we felt nothing could go wrong.
Our lives lay ahead of us.
Men were above us,
landing on the moon.