Poem 4

Poem4 Moments

Every time I look at children

I am reminded of a little me, so silly

Not a care in the world

Oblivious to the pain around me

Climbing tree trunks like one of the boys

Trying so desperately to keep up

Me so small

Trekking behind my big brothers like an energetic Chihuahua

I wanted them to know that I too could hang

Anything you can do I can do better

At school stink bombs went off in the bathroom

Rancid sulfuric rotten egg smelling

As we all held our noses

Our teachers looked for the culprit

 Unable to find those

Mischievous little trouble makers

The same ones who’d spit wads stuck to the ceiling

They were made of several sheets of that brown recycled paper towel

Just the right amount of sticky soap

And Water, lots of it

But all us kids knew

 and we’d giggle till our bellies felt that they would surely burst

and it’s that uncontrollable laughter that kept us alive

I smelled of funnel cake, candy corn and cotton candy

So sweet, bees would follow me for I was their treat

 and I’d be busy trying to swat them off

At Coney Island I would make my sand castles with my favorite shovel and pail

Then I found out I could bring the ocean home with me

My bag full of a variety of seashells

I would listen into the shells my face and ear pressed up against it

And I’d be back at the beach once again

I would ride the Ferris wheel up to the tippy top

Overlooking all the people resembling ants

My dear mother by my side, with her I was fearless

Stress free I was careless

The red cart was my favorite, so I’d wait patiently for it to come back down

At the park I would swing and swing so high

No limits with hopes of reaching the sky

Feet back, feet forward, feet back, feet forward

And I would frolic through the freshly fallen leaves

Water droplets so neat glazing their exteriors

And I would collect them

Searching for the “crispiest” one
Red and juicy as an apple

The next month I would become a snow angel,

Hiding behind snow forts, a neighborhood warzone

Girls against boys, best friends against neighbors

I would put a cup outside my window to collect fresh snow

Then I’d bring it inside and put milk and sugar in it

I always admired snowflakes, there’s this funny thing about ‘em

Where when they’re falling in groups you can barely spot their individual beauty

Their astonishing shapes and patterns I would only notice when a single one fell on my face

There’s beauty in numbers they say

But these snowflakes were even better alone

Sheets of snow pasted against the cars

Their glitter shining

Then the snow would clear and the birds would chirp

The dreaded bugs would come back

And life started all over again

These cycles in repeat makes me question whether or not there really is an end