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As a child
The intensity of the wind consumes me, and I let it
I inhale the strong perfume of freshly cut grass, feeling very much indestructible.
I hunt the praying-mantis, as I watch his elegance in his home, his legs gracing the ground he dares to step on.
I feel guilty, but he will soon be my prized possession.
The laughter of the children taunts me, I hear joy in their voices, I need to partake.
I skip, one two, one two, one two three four. I win.
I run my fingers along the slippery poles of the court
I watch the procession of the game; I listen to the bounce of the orange ball
And watch the children with beads of determination forming along their brow
I ache to be in the air, I run to the swings, because they will just have to do
I swing and swing and swing until I realize that I can never challenge the law of gravity
But I don’t worry, that word doesn’t sit in me
I sit on these spinach green tables in my plaid shorts
And I realize
I feel as though I can defeat the adversary of hope
I’m invincible and entirely unaware
My selfishness is replaced with innocence
I feel something I don’t think I will be able to later, so I soak it up.
My toothy smile plastered on my immature face
That in my complete state of unawareness,
And in the innocence that defined my youth.
I was inescapably happy.