“We finished first,” said Spencer.
“We started late,” said Zylar.
Austin tapped, “Both can be true.”
Aydin held the ribbon higher.

At butterfly station they stayed;
the pocket ribbon passed.
One voice hummed, one voice went “tik,”
one breathed a “whoosh” at last.

Hum—tik—whoosh. Pass it on.
No reprise today.
Keep the pause between the sounds;
let each memory stay.

Spencer walked with Austin Turtle,
slow across the ground.
Aydin paired with Zylar—quick!—
but both pairs turned around.

Slow feet showed the library edge.
Quick feet marked the stair.
Different speeds met at one step:
the little library there.

They used the acorn table once
to sort what they would keep.
The five-minute sprinkle dotted it;
the waiting air stayed asleep.

Zylar stacked the cleanup cards.
Spencer coiled the band.
Austin moved one basket back.
Aydin dried the stand.

Then sunlight crossed the ribbon coil
and laid three shapes below:
a hum, a tik, a whoosh-shaped trail—
the ending they did know.

Hum—tik—whoosh—but not again.
The shadow read it through.
Two memories shared one cleanup cheer:
“Your way—and mine—were true!”