She didn’t tell me that the lights would go off, that
All will come to an end. I didn’t know
That the music will sound bitter one morning,
That the leaves will fall from all the trees,
And that the smiles will usually be
Unhappy. She didn’t tell me.
I found my old friend again:
A chill from the inside, or maybe
The wind crawled through the little holes
In the window. Sometimes I see my reflection.
Other times I do not, and even though it is always dark
During the winter, my friend never smiles back at me.
I wonder who lives in the cracks in the pavement
And if the word were turned upside down,
Would they hold on or fall into the void?
I try to keep my steps light to give them
A choice, because I do not have one.
But still I bet they wouldn’t care since
Atoms do not follow traffic regulations;
Colors do not exist when you’re small, so
Stop signs are futile in their little world
And intersections are a peaceful kind of mess.
Children run into big piles of dead leaves
And slam their ankles, knees and wrists
Into the hard and frozen ground,
But they are still young enough to have fun;
Still happy enough to pretend that the leaves
Will protect them, but still it hurts, always
And all the time. And there is no one more powerful
Than the kid who wins the game of tag
During recess: after snack time, before the nap.
© Kat’s Observations– 2018