Monday, January 26, 2015

As a kid

As a kid
I rode my bike with
my guinea pig, Sugar, in the front basket.
I sat at my grandmother's feet while she knitted.
I felt more loved gathering dust bunnies
for the birds' nest in the back yard
under the apple tree
whose branches brushed against
the rotted roof of the decrepit play house.
Sugar and I played in the grass
where no one could see us.
I'd collect tadpoles in the nearby swamp
to watch grow into frogs, their small
bodies eventually dessicated, sticking
to the bottom of the Pyrex baking dish I
had hidden on the top shelf, forgotten.
Their untimely deaths made me sad.
As a kid, I didn't realize that which
I know as an adult,
It would have been too heartbreaking.

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