When I was young, the moon spoke in riddles
and the stars rhymed. I was a new toy
waiting for my owner to pick me up.
When I was young, I ran the day to its knees.
There were trees to swing on, crickets to capture.
I was narrowly sweet, infinitely cruel,
tongued in hones and coddled in milk,
sunburned and silvery and scabbed like a colt.
And the world was already old.
And I was older than I am today.
When I was a child, the thing I liked to do most of all was escape what I was supposed to do. That’s I think one of the laws of childhood: to escape what you’re supposed to do. The moments I remember most are the moments I snatched from, times I was supposed to be doing chores, or reading. And this poem, which is a new poem talks about those kinds of moments (…)
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