I hopped into that pony’s saddle
And laughed at pollywogs, clover bees
Popped tar bubbles with my toes
On simmering afternoons on the way to
Whiskey Hill for a nickle chick-a-dee?
That I kissed a boy in the church parking lot
and told my friends that love is more powerful
than diamond cutting blades or Superman’s
perdurable toughness or Batman’s little black riding
cape and they scoffed because they had not
loved the way I had….yet.
That I sat among the thousands cheering a little football team
to a National Championship while in my head
I knew that life was soon to change and whisk me
off to some foreign shore where life springs eternal
in the museums of time.
That I came home to work, to play
to settle in. Ah, wasn’t it yesterday
when I said, “I do” and before I did,
life had changed again and love became
a wondering game about who, how much,
and what is unconditional anyway?
That Grandma told me stories about
swimming pools and avocado trees
and day old bakeries and cousins
who meant everything suddenly
died. And that was wrong. And
then we knew our childhood was gone
But never forgotten.